


Eyes Wide Open

by Rae666



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 03:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/302993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae666/pseuds/Rae666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After witnessing Merlin using magic, Arthur is faced with a series of hard decisions. Can he decide where his loyalties lie in time to defeat a new enemy that quickly approaches Camelot? Just friendship, no slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of the characters. All I have are my words and my squees of rabid fangirlishness.
> 
> A/N: I've had this up awhile somewhere else and thought I'd move it here seeing as I'm putting my new Merlin fic up here too. Hopefully anyone who reads will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Arthur slid the sword from its sheath with ease and raised the tip so it was level with Merlin's chest. His servant merely rolled his eyes in response, his head tilting slightly to the side as he opened his mouth again to argue. But Arthur wasn't having it. "You're staying here and that's final." He felt like he was talking to a small child.

"You can't be serious about going after that _thing_." And still he protested, as if he wasn't even aware of the deadly weapon that was all but touching his chest. "It's suicide!"

"No," Arthur explained, drawing the word out in a low tone while thrusting the sword into the ground beside him, growing tired of pointing it at Merlin. It might as well have been a stick or a rabbit for the use it was in intimidating him. "The beast is injured; therefore the logical decision is to hunt it down before it has time to recover."

Merlin nodded, his jaw clenched, and Arthur almost breathed out in relief that the imbecile finally understood. But then, this _was_ Merlin. "Fine, then I'm coming with you."

" _Mer_ lin," he all but growled through a tight smile, "how many times do I have to say that you are staying here?"

"You can say it as many times as you want but I still won't listen to you." Stubborn, always so stupidly stubborn. It was a quality that Arthur both admired and found infuriating at the same time. Only Merlin could provoke such a reaction.

Leaving the sword where it was, Arthur gripped Merlin's shoulder instead and guided him back to the dying fire, forcing him to sit between the two knights that were already there. There were six knights in total, or there had been before they were attacked by the creature that they were supposed to be hunting. It turned out to be hunting them in return. One of his knights had been killed during the attack and another two, the two by the fire, had been injured. But the creature was injured now too.

"Restrain him if you must but make sure he does not leave this camp," he ordered the knights, knowing that whilst Merlin seemed to have a mental affliction that kept him from following orders, his knights did not.

He moved away to retrieve his sword, watching Merlin from the corner of his eye. The manservant made an attempt to rise from his position but a gentle hand placed on his shoulder, courtesy of the knight to his right, kept him where he was. He didn't agree with what Arthur was doing but even he was smart enough to realise he couldn't take on Arthur _and_ five knights.

"Let's go!" Arthur ordered, finally satisfied that his manservant wouldn't follow him and the remaining three knights that had avoided injury thus far. "I want this creature dead before the sun has fully risen."

It had taken them a day to track the creature this far into the woods and only the imposing darkness had stopped them from tracking it any further. That had been the previous night, when they had set up camp, deciding to continue their search in the morning. Dawn barely an hour away, the creature had found them and attacked before fleeing after Arthur had managed to get close enough to do harm. Arthur intended to set off immediately after it to finish the job, the only problem was Merlin…

He had been on watch when the creature had attacked and Arthur could clearly see the bags under his manservant's eyes and the way Merlin swayed just ever so slightly from lack of sleep. Then there were Sir Henry and Fredrick to consider, their wounds too extensive for them to continue battle so soon. None of them would have stood a chance against the creature. It would be safer for them to remain behind. Besides, now wide awake and fully aware, Arthur was sure he could take the creature down with the three knights that now strode beside him through the woods. If they dealt with it quickly, then perhaps they would make it back to the castle in time for a late feast.

A noise up ahead pulled him from his thoughts and he stilled, eyes searching the bushes in front. The creature was fast and aggressive, deadly from the sharpened teeth in its mouth to the barbed stings that laced the tip of its tail. He turned his head to the side, one eye still aware of the brush up ahead and the other taking in his men. Quick and silent, he signalled for Sir Kay and Philip to circle around behind the creature whilst he and Sir Ivan advanced forward.

Though it seemed the beast didn't agree with his plan. It emerged from its cover and darted straight for Philip, talons ripping into the young knight's lower leg. He cried out in pain and swung his sword wildly. The metal scraped against the scales on the beast's chest but refused to draw blood. Its entire length, which was nearly twice as long as Arthur was tall, was covered in those scales, all except for the wings that branched out from the creatures sides. It put Arthur in mind of the type of creature that would be produced should a snake and a bird ever mate.

Arthur rushed forward, already eyeing up the wings for his target. It had been there he had struck before and judging by the way the creature now tried to keep them out of sword's reach, they were its most vulnerable point. Sir Ivan clearly thought so too, approaching from the opposite side in an attempt to distract the creature.

The tail swung out and round, throwing Ivan from his feet and backwards until he collided with the trunk of a tree. Arthur barely had time to roll to the side before it tried to do the same to him, the cloth of his trouser leg catching and ripping on one of the many stingers. By the time he was back on his feet, so was Ivan, though the same could not be said of Philip. The creature abandoned him, discarding him and his now limp body in favour of a meatier Sir Kay who approached cautiously with a spear firmly in his grasp.

Wings spread out, it thrust itself into the air and Kay aimed the spear. He had a powerful arm, Arthur had seen him both in training and in battle, but he was slow at judging his aim. Despite that, had he been facing any other opponent, the spear would have surely hit its target. But the creature was quick on the ground and even quicker in flight. The spear soared past and to the ground, taking out nothing more than a harmless leaf at the same time the creature took out Kay.

Arthur abandoned his sword, taking up the spear in his right hand instead. The creature paid him no heed which he didn't mind at all. In fact, it worked out better than way. It meant that while it moved in on Ivan, it never saw it coming. The point of the spear pierced its wing and it cried out in agony, a shriek that had Arthur on his knees and covering his ears. He looked across the small clearing to see Ivan in a similar position, a grimace planted on his face.

It wasn't until the creature shot skyward once more, almost dragging itself through the air and away from both Arthur and Ivan, that Arthur found he could move again. And move he did. Sword back in his hand, he raced forward, his chest aching and heart hammering, giving chase. Only this time, each step held more desperation.

The beast was heading straight for the camp, straight for the injured knights and for Merlin. And Arthur had just left them there unable to truly defend themselves against the vicious attack that was coming their way.

* * *

Merlin stared into the flames of the fire unseeing, his attention focused on the forest instead. He strained his ears, listening. But all he heard was the crackling from the fire and the soft noises of chirping birds and buzzing insects. The light snoring from Sir Fredrick joined with the noises of the forest and Merlin felt some envy that the man could sleep so easily. Sir Henry on the other hand was wide awake and watching him with the eyes of a hawk, or more appropriately a sparrow as his eyes were much softer than many of the other knights. Kind or not, the air still felt awkward and tense.

The Prat was as determined as ever to get himself killed. Oh, Merlin was sure that he didn't see it that way. It was his duty to Camelot and to the people to hunt down beasts that disturbed the kingdom. Didn't matter that the beast was magical or that it preferred the taste of man rather than the taste of livestock or that it could kill faster than any of Arthur's knights or even Arthur himself. After all, why would Arthur let a little thing like that bother him?

He huffed. It was a small huff but loud enough and clearly a huff enough to garner a short laugh from Sir Henry. The knight was amused by him. Well that was something. If he failed in his destiny to protect Arthur then he could always turn to being a court jester. He could use his magic for parlour tricks like Trickler and his fiery breath and display of butterfl—

The sound of whooshing and feel of a sudden wind dragged his eyes away from the fire and thoughts away from butterflies, and instead he looked toward Sir Fredrick. Or where Sir Fredrick had been.

Sir Henry was already on his feet, sword drawn. His left shoulder was badly hurt and he favoured his right leg but he was a knight of Camelot. He would rather die fighting than lie down like a coward. Merlin joined him in standing, moving toward the tree that Sir Fredrick had been using as a pillow only moments before, coming to a stop a second too late to dodge the blow that came his way.

He was aware of falling or possibly floating, he wasn't sure which until he realised he was on the forest floor and somewhere beyond that buzzing in his head, there was another sound. It made him think of panic and the colour red. Something heavy landed across his chest and he looked down, finding himself making his own version of that sound as talons scraped his skin. A scream, that's what it was called… A cry of pain.

He managed to stop long enough to utter a spell that caused roots to shoot up from the ground and wrap around the creature's leg. It wasn't much but it bought him enough of a distraction to roll himself out from under those sharp claws and back to his feet. He staggered at first, trying to find his footing as his eyes searched the camp for the knights. He almost wished he hadn't.

The creature cried out, immediately catching Merlin's attention. He barely had time to use his magic to guide the nearest and sharpest object toward the beast as it charged at him. His tongue twisted around the familiar words that he had used before the kill the griffin, coating the sword that had belonged to Sir Henry in thick, glowing magic. It tore into the creature before him, bringing it to a violent stop as it writhed on the floor.

And as he felt himself falling back toward the ground, his legs refusing to hold him and mind refusing to stay conscious, he was almost sure he heard someone say his name…

* * *

Arthur forced himself forward toward the camp, somewhat aware that Sir Ivan was behind him, attempting to match his pace. Deep in the pit of his stomach, he felt something twist, guilt and fear already sweeping in. He had underestimated the creature and in turn had endangered the lives of his men. He could hear screaming now and the twisting grew. They would be slaughtered and he was too far away to stop it.

Pushing himself harder, he broke free of the dense brush, barely aware of the crashing that followed him. His eyes were focused on the figure he could make out ahead. Merlin. He was standing there, back to Arthur and eyes no doubt locked on the creature. "MERLIN!" He cried the name out, knowing it wouldn't help his manservant in the least from the attack that was about to come. But he needed to shout it all the same. He needed to do something but he was still too far away.

The beast launched itself forward and Arthur came to a stop, his entire body freezing. It wasn't fear that gripped him or grief over the loss of the friend that he was too far away to save. It was the foreign words he heard and the sword that moved by itself, sheathed in a brilliant blue. It was magic and in the middle of it all… Merlin?

His mind spun, trying to comprehend what he had just seen and what that meant, his body still and unable to move. But then Merlin was falling forward and his feet were moving again as if they had suddenly remembered how to run. He felt as if he wasn't truly in control, as if he were in some half-dream that he didn't have any say in. "Merlin!"

Dropping at Merlin's side, he turned him onto his back. His brow furrowed, eyes wandering over the shirt that he was sure had been blue before this hunting trip started and yet now it was red. But the chest beneath the shirt still moved. It rose and fell even though the eyes didn't flutter open and Arthur thought that was best. He didn't trust his tongue in that moment or the words he would say when given the chance to confront his manservant about what he had just witnessed.

There was a shuffle beside him, a movement and Arthur looked up, his hand moving to the sword that had fallen from his grasp. He didn't raise it, eyes meeting Ivan's. The sight cleared the fog that clouded his mind, allowing him to think more clearly about what needed to be done.

"Check on the others," he ordered, turning his attention back to Merlin.

"Sire?" the knight questioned and though he didn't expand on what that question was, Arthur knew. The tone confirmed his own thoughts. There was no doubt, the magic had belonged to Merlin.

Rather than answer though, he raised his eyes to glare at the young man before him, no words needed, and Sir Ivan moved off. The others were dead. He knew as much already. And if he didn't get Merlin back to Camelot, to Gaius, then he would be dead too. As for the magic… he was still trying to figure that part out.

"Prepare the horses," Arthur said when Ivan returned, dragging himself and Merlin up from the ground. "We ride back immediately."

"But Sire…" They were the only words that Arthur allowed to leave his mouth before he swung to glare at the knight again, his eyebrows raised in warning and jaw clenched.

"Speak of this to no one or I will have your head."


	2. Chapter 2

The sun was high in the sky by the time they arrived back in Camelot, the ride back taking much less time than the ride out. Moving into the courtyard before the castle, Arthur was already swinging himself from his horse before it had chance to come to a stop, allowing one of the waiting servants to grab the reigns whilst he moved to the horse that held Merlin.

"Fetch the court physician," he called to a second servant, impatient and focused solely on getting Merlin to Gaius. "Have him meet us in his chambers." He turned his head to see the servant had still not moved. "Now!"

At that, the servant flinched and skittered away, racing toward the castle in search of the physician. Arthur ignored any of the looks he may have received, avoiding Sir Ivan's eyes altogether. He focused instead on heaving Merlin from the horse and starting the trudge to Gaius' quarters.

As he walked, he contemplated how much heavier Merlin was than Arthur had imagined - the manservant that always seemed so scrawny, so accident prone, tripping over his own feet and falling off balance so easily. He really was a useless servant. Had he been any other servant in the castle, he would have been flogged or fired, or more likely – both. Nothing about him screamed sorcerer.

Arthur looked up, seeing Gaius waiting at the door to his chambers. The servant he'd sent was nowhere to be seen, no doubt having scarpered away for fear of Arthur collaring him. "What happened?" the older man asked, moving to the side to allow Arthur to pass into the room. His brow was furrowed, concern for his ward clearly etched into his features.

"He was wounded by the creature," Arthur explained though he knew the blood stained shirt and slashes on Merlin's chest said all that needed to be said.

The door closed, Gaius moved further into the room. With one hand he grabbed a cloth and vial of something dark brown and sludgy, using his other hand to indicate the bed that was set up in the corner of the room. "Set him over there."

Arthur did as he was told, taking a step back and watching in silence as Gaius examined the unconscious manservant. With the ease that came from being well practised at what he did, the physician worked, removing Merlin's shirt and cleaning the wounds before dabbing the brown sludge across them while Arthur paced the floor behind, arms folded across his chest, waiting.

"How does it look?" he asked finally, unable to wait no more.

Gaius looked over his shoulder at him, meeting his eyes for a moment before returning to Merlin. His hands moved to the young servant's head where a cut sat just below the hairline. "The wounds on his chest appear superficial. As long as infection has not gotten in, they should heal. It is the gash on his head that worries me." He probed at the wound, feeling it with his fingertips then turned to face Arthur once more. "How long has he been unconscious?"

"Half a day, we rode back as quickly as we could." Arthur's hands fell away from his chest, arms falling to his side. Had the ride taken too long? Had he not gotten Merlin back quick enough? His eyes locked on the mop of dark hair and the pale complexion.

It was only when Gaius placed his hand on Arthur's shoulder that he found himself able to tear his eyes away from Merlin and toward the older man instead. "Merlin is stronger than he looks. He won't allow death to claim him so easily. You should go to your father, he will be anxious to see you."

Arthur nodded, his gaze following the physician in his movements, gathering his potions in order to tend to Merlin. "Thank you, Gaius. I'll return in the morning to see how he is."

His thoughts distracted, he took two wrong turns on his way to the throne room, where his father would be waiting, almost knocking a maidservant down in the process. She apologised profusely, Arthur's own small apology falling on deaf ears. He was a prince after all. He could do no wrong. Though in truth, he knew that others were just too afraid to speak up if he did. But Merlin…

"Sire."

Arthur looked up, his thoughts fleeing before they could finish forming fully. Somehow, despite his deep thinking and daydreaming, he had found his way to the throne room. The knights pushed the door open for him and he entered the room where he was immediately greeted by a beaming Uther. He waited until he heard the doors close behind him before speaking.

"The beast is dead," he announced, inclining his head in respect to his father.

Uther clasped his hands together and rounded the throne, his eyes taking in Arthur, smile still firmly in place on his face. "Excellent, then the hunt was a success and you have returned back safely for which I am thankful."

The hunt had been a success. That was certainly one way to describe it. A disaster was another. Five knights dead and his manservant severely injured. "Only Sir Ivan and Merlin returned with me," he went on to say and as if sensing his sorrow, Uther moved halfway down the hall, closing the distance between them.

"It is regretful. They shall be remembered fondly and honoured of course, for their actions and their bravery."

Remembered and honoured, maybe that was all you could ask for when you died in battle. It didn't feel like it was enough. And what about Merlin and his actions? It had been him who had killed the creature after all.

"Is there something else, my son?" Uther asked expectantly when Arthur didn't reply or attempt to make his leave. His voice was almost soft but as always, it held an official tone that never failed to put Arthur in his place or to remind him of Uther's position as king.

Arthur considered the question for a moment. If he failed to tell Uther about the magic, surely that would be an act of betrayal against his father and Camelot itself? All he had to do was explain what had happened and that if Merlin hadn't used magic to kill the beast then it would have surely slaughtered the whole lot of them. There had been no ill intent behind it.

"Merlin," he started, but his throat closed up and he hesitated. The words refused to form and the sentence died away in silence.

Uther waved an impatient hand, gesturing for him to continue. His eyes showing that he could care little for the servant. "Yes?"

He swallowed and tried his throat again. "Merlin was injured during the hunt," he managed to say instead, knowing that he had to say something. "His condition is…" But he couldn't say what his condition was and his eyes fell to the floor. He couldn't acknowledge how close Merlin had been, and still could be, to death.

"Merlin has proved himself to be a loyal and trustworthy manservant." Arthur looked up at his father's words, meeting his grave and sympathetic gaze. He had understood Arthur's silence perfectly. "Though he is only a servant none the less and can be replaced. If his condition does not improve, it would be improper for you to mourn him."

Heat rose to flush Arthur's cheeks and his hands formed fists at his side, jaw clenching. He lowered his eyes, unable to meet Uther's any longer. Uther had said it himself, time and time again, Merlin had proved himself to go beyond the simple actions of a servant. If he were to die, to not feel that loss would be impossible. To not give it proper acknowledgement, _that_ would be improper.

Forcing himself to stand tall, Arthur met his father's gaze once more and inclined his head. "Yes, Father," he answered before excusing himself from the hall.

He would not mourn Merlin because Gaius was right, Merlin would not die.

 

* * *

Merlin felt himself being pulled from the darkness that wrapped around him like a thick blanket, numbing the pain and the thoughts that came with it. The further he was pulled, the more he felt, the more he remembered.

"Arthur!" he called out, his body arching up so he was no longer lying on his back but instead in a seated position on what was definitely not the forest floor. His chest and head protested against the sudden movement, pain flaring momentarily. Head thumping, grogginess washed over him as he tried to figure out where he was and why he was wearing no shirt.

"Merlin!" The familiar voice had him turning to look behind at the approaching figure, bleary eyes trying to focus. "Thank heavens you're awake."

"Gaius?" Merlin questioned, his voice small and weak. His head fell to his hands, forehead resting against his palms. The pounding didn't hurt so much in this position. "What happened?"

"I was hoping you would tell me." Gaius placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked up enough to see him holding out a small vial. "Drink this, it'll clear your head."

Reluctantly, Merlin did as Gaius said, pulling a face at the aftertaste. "That's disgusting," he groaned, handing the vial back. He took a moment to get over the tang left behind before allowing his eyes to roam the room. It was lit by candlelight, the sky beyond the window dark, leaving Merlin to wonder how long he had been out.

"The creature," he began, attempting to remember what had happened. "Arthur went after it… He ordered me to stay behind." He stiffened, eyes snapping to meet Gaius', alight with worry. "Arthur… I have to-"

The physician shook his head, lightly squeezing Merlin's shoulder to stop him from trying to stand. "Relax. It was Arthur who brought you to me. He is in perfect health but the same cannot be said for you. Now, what happened?"

His body sagged, relief flooding through him. If Arthur had been injured, or worse, because he hadn't been there to help him, Merlin would have never forgiven himself. "The swords were useless, Gaius. When it attacked, they didn't stand a chance. Arthur went after it but it attacked the camp… I had to use magic." He clenched a fist in the sheet that still partly covered his lower half. "If I had used it sooner, when the creature first attacked, Arthur would have never been put in danger. He wouldn't have had to go after it."

"You had little choice, Merlin. Until magic has returned to Camelot, you must keep your gift hidden." Gaius patted him gently on the back before moving away again to return to the table. Merlin watched him tinkering with the plants and jars that sat there but paid little attention to what the physician was actually doing.

"How long, Gaius? How long do I have to pretend that I can do nothing to help when I have all this power?" _How long do I have to hide who I am?_ His gaze dropped to the floor, his grip loosening on the sheet. He longed for the day that magic returned and for the united Albion that Kilgarrah had said Arthur would bring about. But until then, why did everything have to be so damn hard? "Those knights didn't have to die."

"I know it's not easy but you can't protect Arthur if your head is on the chopping block, can you? Your time and Arthur's will come but until that happens, I would prefer it if you at least tried to stay alive." Turning away from his potions, Gaius looked toward him and Merlin held his gaze long enough to see the emotions behind those tired, old eyes. "For my sake as well as your own."

Merlin nodded, not knowing what else he could say. Gaius was like a father to him and he had proven time and time before just how far he was willing to go to protect Merlin.

"Now get some rest, your body still needs time to recover from the damage the creature dealt. I'm sure Arthur will be eager to see you back on your feet and going about your daily chores."

"Of course he will be," Merlin scoffed, laying himself back on the bed and closing his eyes. "Without me there, his armour will probably rust, his royal socks will never get washed and the stables'll never be mucked out."


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur should have been sleeping. The sky was dark and Camelot was resting. But instead of lying dreaming in his bed, he stood by the window, staring out across the darkened streets below, his mind uneasy.

He had lied to his father in the past in order to protect Merlin but this time was different. He wasn't lying to protect a useless servant that had slipped up. He was lying to protect a sorcerer. A sorcerer that had deceived him, daring to look him in the eye while he pretended to be his loyal servant and friend. A sorcerer that had saved his life more times than he cared to admit and had stood by his side against enemies that made even his knights quake in their armour.

Arthur dragged a hand across his brow and turned back to face the room, his eyes wandering idly to the fire burning bright in the hearth. This was getting him nowhere. Everything he knew about magic, everything he had heard and witnessed, told him it was evil and those who used it sought only to destroy Camelot and overthrow the king. But Merlin was… he was an idiot.

He had played the scene over in his head a hundred times since returning and still it made no sense to him. He still couldn't believe it. And yet the evidence was there. When Uther had brought in the Witchfinder, it had been Merlin he had accused of sorcery. Had he seen something in the manservant that Arthur had missed? Was there some telltale sign he was supposed to be looking out for?

Then there was Gwen. When her father had recovered from the sickness that had spread through Camelot's water, Merlin had claimed it was he who was responsible and not Gwen. He had burst through the doors, declaring himself to be the sorcerer and laying himself at Uther's mercy. Well then, that just proved it. Merlin truly was an idiot. What kind of sorcerer went about saying things like that?

Arthur sank onto the bed, bending down to pull his boots from his feet. There was nothing that could be done tonight. He wasn't even sure if there was anything that could be done at all. For the moment, he could only hope that Sir Ivan obeyed his orders and kept silent about what they had witnessed, at least until Arthur could figure it all out.

* * *

Dark eyes fell to gaze upon even darker waters, a stare so cold and hard that perhaps it was to blame for the ice that spread out across the small section of lake. Though for anyone listening carefully, and if they had been it would have been unfortunate for them, they would have blamed the whispered words that fell from crooked lips.

Within the ice, an image formed - a sleeping boy with raven hair, at peace with his dreams. The dark eyed sorcerer, known to those who feared him as Blaine, struck out, the ice shattering and turning back to water as the image faded away on ripples.

"The warlock lives." His words were harsh, seeming to accuse the air itself, voice rough like gravel and dirt. This was not good news. The wyvern had failed him. But that was the trouble with beasts – they did as beasts always do. They acted on instinct, caring little for the desires of man. But perhaps not all was lost.

The shaggy mess of hair fell to cover his face as he turned to the waters once again, the eyes of his reflection turning golden while the words of magic tumbled effortlessly from his lips. No ice spilled across the lake this time, the sorcerer controlling his temper. Instead, the remaining ripples all but stilled, the wind itself holding its breath as time slowed to a near halt and another image formed in the waters. This one was not so at ease, his sleep disturbed and restless.

The prince had been witness to the secret that his servant had tried so hard to hide. Blaine caressed the water, his mouth forming a cross between a smile and a sneer. With King Uther as his father, the prince would surely hand the warlock over to be executed. And in doing so, he would bring about his own downfall. With the warlock dead and no one to protect him, the prince would be an open target. Camelot itself would be vulnerable.

Allowing the image to fade on its own, Blaine stood, the forest around him coming to life once again as time caught up. It would be another day's ride before he reached Camelot. If he was swift, he could make it before the pyre was lit and the boy joined his father in the spirit realm. After all, it would be a shame to miss such a show.

He moved to his horse, hand gliding down its neck before coming to rest at the shoulder where he patted gently. "Rest awhile longer, my steed. We shall ride at first sign of dawn."

* * *

When Merlin woke, his head didn't feel as heavy as the last time. He was aware of a dull ache that still remained but it had lessened greatly. The same could not be said for his chest. Each pained movement felt like a sharp complaint that made him wish he knew of some spell that would take it away.

"Next time Arthur wants to go hunting some creature that has anything even remotely sharp about it, he can be the one to get attacked. He's the one with the armour." Though he knew the words were empty. Arthur's life was worth more than his and so long as he was able, he would put the prince first and himself second.

Pushing himself up with a groan, he glanced around the room, watching the morning light dance across the floor and walls. Gaius was sat by the table, his head rested on his crossed arms, features peaceful in the sleep that claimed him. He had probably only just fallen into slumber. For a moment, Merlin wondered what would have kept the old physician awake but as he looked down and saw fresh bandages across his chest, he realised he was the reason. Gaius had stayed awake to tend to him, watching over him.

With the intention of getting dressed, he dragged himself to his feet and swayed a moment. Once happy that he wouldn't fall flat on his face, he took his first few steps toward his room in the back and winced when he caught the broom that rested against the wall. So much for trying to not wake Gaius. The broom fell to the floor with a clatter and he closed his eyes, waiting for a reaction.

"Merlin!" And there it was, voice firm, no traces of the sleep that had held him.

Preparing himself for what was coming, Merlin span to face the older man, an impish grin spreading across his face as he looked him over. "Morning!"

Gaius pushed himself up from his seat at the table, his face stern and eyes uncompromising, locked on Merlin. "You should be resting, Merlin. You're still recovering."

Resting. Merlin was so used to being told to anything but that he wasn't even sure he knew what it meant to rest anymore. Besides, surely Gaius didn't expect him to spend his whole time recovering in bed? "I'm fine… thanks to you."

But still that serious expression refused to disappear, eyebrow raised. The deep worry still present in the old man's eyes made Merlin wonder how he must have looked when Arthur had brought him to the physician. "If anything, you have your magic to thank for your recovery – that and your incredibly thick skull."

Merlin's grin just widened in reply and he let go of a small laugh. His magic may have made him more resilient than others but Merlin had no doubt that without Gaius treating him, things would have been different. Without Gaius, a lot of things would have been different.

His smile must have been infectious because that expression on Gaius' face was dissolving and the older man finally allowed a smile to slip onto his own lips as he shook his head. "You still need to take it easy. You mustn't push yourself so hard so soon. You must rest."

"What, you mean act like Arthur does?"

Gaius never got the chance to reply. He was interrupted by the knock and opening of the door to the chambers. Both their gazes were drawn to the figure that stood there with a sardonic expression on his face that said he was not amused by what he had heard. "Am I imagining things or did I just hear my name mentioned?" His stare was accusatory and aimed straight at Merlin, a tight smile on his lips.

"Sire," Gaius said in acknowledgment to Arthur's presence, inclining his head before excusing himself in order to 'fetch some water for tea'.

Merlin watched him go then returned his attention to Arthur. He couldn't help but beam at him. He was alive and unharmed, just as he was meant to be, just as Gaius had said. "You know, you really shouldn't be listening outside of people's chambers, it's unprincely."

His grin turned sheepish though when he saw Arthur's eyes fall to his chest. His posture was rigid, his jaw clenched and Merlin was sure he could see concern clearly etched into his features.

"Gaius said you brought me back," he said when Arthur failed to break the brief silence that had fallen.

With a roll of his eyes, the concern was masked. "I could hardly leave a perfectly good manservant to die in the forest," Arthur started, a cocky grin falling into place on his face as his eyes looked to Merlin with mock innocence, "But since you were the only servant there, you had to do."

Merlin grinned too, that lopsided grin that Arthur often told him to wipe off his face because it made him look like an idiot. But then, Merlin never listened to him. "Thanks," he said after a moment, sincerity ringing clear.

Arthur cleared his throat, his expression turning solemn again as he looked over Merlin. And Merlin was sure he saw something different in the prince's eyes, for the briefest moment, something vulnerable and unsure which just wasn't right because Arthur was always so sure of himself, even when he was wrong. The moment was gone and Arthur's throat worked, visibly swallowing. "How's your chest?" he asked, motioning to Merlin with his hand.

"It looks worse than it feels," he answered before adding, "Or maybe not…" as he grimaced at another sharp pain. "I'll live."

At that, Arthur scoffed and shook his head. That condescending smile returned to his features along with that look that Merlin could only describe as prattishness even though he knew there was no such word. "Good," Arthur said, voice clear and vibrating like an echo around the room, "then you won't mind returning to your chores tomorrow. My armour needs mending, my blade needs sharpening and the dogs need walking."

Merlin's face fell. "Last time you asked me to do that, they tried to eat me."

"Then it'll be good exercise for you. Build up some muscle." He raised an eyebrow as if to challenge Merlin to say something else. When he didn't, he turned to leave and it was then that Merlin chose to mutter his retort under his breath.

"I'm not the one who needs the exercise."

The prince swung back to face him, eyes narrowed as he pointed his finger in Merlin's direction. "I heard that, Merlin."

Of course, Merlin feigned innocence, shaking his head, brow furrowed. "I didn't say anything."

He lowered his hand but didn't reply to the childish denial. Instead, a small smile played at the edges of his lips and he turned away again. His next words were so quiet that Merlin barely heard them but he believed in them. "I'm glad you're okay."

Watching as the prince took his leave, Merlin could only nod numbly, though he knew Arthur wouldn't see. He was so used to the back and forth taunts they shared with one another that the moment, in all its genuineness, felt surreal. But Merlin knew that as soon as he saw Arthur the next day, he would be back to torturing and teasing him. The joys of being Prince Arthur's manservant.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur was already dressed and staring out his window, the morning of the next day, when he heard the door to his room opening. He knew it was Merlin before he even heard his voice. The lack of a knock was the first giveaway as it seemed the young manservant either didn't know how to knock or just didn't believe in it. Arthur believed it to be a combination of the two. But that wasn't the only reason he knew it was Merlin. He had told Merlin to be there, and so he was.

"Breakfast, Sire," Merlin announced, cheery and just ever so slightly mocking as he drew out the title. Arthur heard him setting it on the table and turned away from the window to watch him.

"Better late than never," he sniped casually, moving to take a seat in front of the meal. Merlin didn't reply, instead tossing Arthur one of those looks that told him that whilst he wasn't saying it, he was definitely thinking up an insult.

Arthur pretended not to notice and looked down at the food. He wasn't hungry. His appetite had been lacking ever since returning to the castle whilst his thoughts appeared to be working overtime. He had spent the previous day hunting in an attempt to clear his head. It hadn't worked. If anything, he'd found himself more distracted whilst out in the woods.

Ignoring the food, he turned in his seat and continued to watch Merlin as he set himself to the task of making Arthur's bed. He didn't know what he was looking for. Merlin looked just the same as he had before Arthur had caught him using magic, just the same as he had when Arthur had visited him the previous morning. Evil sorcerer? No. Clumsy servant that spent more time back talking than doing his chores? That was more like it.

Merlin glanced up, catching his eyes before returning his attention to the bed. A few seconds later, he huffed out a breath and glanced up again through narrowed eyes. "Are you watching me?"

"I'm making sure you don't get blood all over my sheets," he replied dryly.

"Why? It would only be me that would have to clean them again." His fingers stilled, palms lying flat on the bed as he leaned forward, returning Arthur's watchful gaze. If anything, he looked more suspicious of Arthur than Arthur felt of him.

"Then you better make sure you don't then. It'll save you a job." Forcing his eyes away, he turned back to the meal and picked up a piece of cheese from the plate. He put it in his mouth and chewed more for show than anything. He wished he hadn't. After a few seconds, he grimaced at the taste and let the piece fall back onto the plate. "What the hell is this? Poison?"

Evidently done with the bed, Merlin rounded the table with that annoyingly stupid grin on his face. "Goat's cheese. Apparently it's a gift from a neighbouring kingdom."

"So it is poison?"

"Don't let your father hear you say that," he breathed out, his eyes clearly saying how amused he was. "You wouldn't want to offend anyone."

"Offend anyone? If anyone should be offended it should be Camelot. What kind of gift is this?" He pushed the plate away from him, any smidgen of appetite that he may have held completely washed away with the lingering taste of that cheese. And, as he stared at it in both disgust and mild annoyance, that was when it hit him – the cold and bitter truth.

Arthur was vulnerable. He could have been poisoned a thousand times, cursed a thousand more or even smothered in his sleep for the length of time that Merlin had been working under him. It was what a sorcerer would have done, at least according to his father. And if Arthur were to believe what his father had told him, what he had been taught since a young age, if Merlin were a sorcerer, then Arthur should have been dead by now.

Arthur looked up again, his eyes following Merlin as he made his way across the room, gathering clothing that had been strewn about carelessly by Arthur the previous day. A sorcerer wouldn't be servant to a prince in a kingdom where magic was banned. This meant that the only logical conclusion Arthur could come to was that Merlin couldn't be a sorcerer. He was just some idiot who happened to have magic. And if that was the case then, no one really had to know, right?

"And don't forget my armour still needs mending, preferably _before_ training this afternoon," he called out, dragging his thoughts away from sorcery.

Merlin smiled tightly at him, clothes still gathered in his arms as he made his way toward the door. "How could I?"

It was when he was halfway out the door that Arthur spoke again, stopping the manservant dead. "Merlin…" he started, unsure why he was asking but needing to all the same, "When I was gone, what happened in the forest with that creature?"

Merlin paled, which Arthur thought was quite a feat considering how pale his complexion already was normally. The hesitation was clear but then Merlin offered a small shrug and a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I don't remember."

Arthur nodded his head thoughtfully and watched as Merlin turned to leave again, this time making it all the way. He wanted to feel angry that his own servant had lied to him. He wanted to feel something other than the hollow feeling of disappointment that filled him instead because he just couldn't understand why he would feel that way.

Merlin was his servant and as a servant, he should never lie to his master. And should a servant ever lie to a master, the master would have a right to feel angry. But Arthur just couldn't.

He pushed himself up and away from the table, moving instead toward the fireplace. Deep down inside, he knew that he was only fooling himself. What he was feeling had nothing to do with anger or with Merlin lying to him. Deep down inside, he knew he felt empty because the lie meant that Merlin didn't trust him and really… why would he? He was Prince Arthur, son of King Uther, a man that would sooner execute a man for breathing the word 'magic' than listen to the possibility that the man could maybe, just maybe, be a good man with no ill intentions.

* * *

Merlin spent the morning working on Arthur's armour, his thoughts half on the task at hand and half on the prince's behaviour. When he had questioned Merlin about the creature and the forest, Merlin had feared the worst. After all, Merlin's head had been swimming so much at the time that all he had seen was the creature in front of him. What if someone had seen?

 _Then you'd be dead,_ the voice inside his head told him coldly and he swallowed hard. Yet even with that knowledge, a vague memory stirred at the back of his mind, of someone calling his name as he plummeted to the ground. Had he imagined that?

Shaking himself, he forced his thoughts away from the subject. It would do him no good to dwell on it. It would only serve to drive him mad. The thing that mattered was that the creature was dead and they had returned to Camelot somewhat safely, if a little unconscious on Merlin's part. Of course, then there were the knights.

Perhaps that was what had been playing on Arthur's mind. Something was troubling the young prince, Merlin had been in his company long enough to be able to tell. Though he had told Merlin once that no man was worth his tears, that did not mean he was made of stone.

"In your own time, Merlin!" The voice dragged Merlin from his thoughts and he looked up to see Arthur waiting by the training field, his arms outstretched in front of him in impatience. "A blind man could walk faster than you."

"A blind man wouldn't have all _this_ to carry," Merlin retorted, jerking his arms upward to motion at the gear he held in them. The sword slipped a little from its already precarious balancing spot but did not fall.

"And what would you suggest?" Arthur went on, in that ever so mocking and pompous tone Merlin had grown accustomed to, "That I carry it myself?"

"Of course not, _Sire_ ," Merlin drawled out, his words thick with sarcasm. Coming to a stop, he dumped the equipment onto the empty bench beside Arthur, the sword finally deciding it had had enough of the balancing act and choosing to fall to the floor which earned Merlin a further glower from Arthur.

"Why do I put up with you, Merlin?" he asked with what Merlin thought was an extremely unjustified eye roll.

"Because you scare all the other servants?" He gave Arthur a grin before setting to the task of dressing him in the armour, the smile never slipping from his lips.

"That's not fear, _Merlin_. It's called respect. Something you appear to be lacking." He looked straight ahead, not sparing Merlin a glance until he finished up and was moving to pick up the sword.

"Respect, really?" Merlin pondered innocently, "Is that what you call running away in tears? And that's just the men!"

"Just shut up and give me the sword."

Deciding that meant he had won, Merlin did as he was told, handing the sword over and watching as Arthur stalked out onto the training field. Though he knew he had other chores to attend to, he found himself staying at the edge of the field, arms folded over his chest absorbed in Arthur's warm up speech to his men. It wasn't until someone spoke up beside him that he tore his attention away.

"You don't speak to him like a prince."

"That's because he's a prat," Merlin answered before he could stop himself, a somewhat sheepish expression forming on his face as he turned to look at the knight beside him. Sir Ivan.

He had been with them in the forest, the purpling bruise on the side of his face probably due to fighting the creature. His hair was a few shades darker than Arthur's, its length longer too, and his eyes were more hardened, most likely through age. Though Merlin never really questioned the way he spoke to Arthur, he found himself shifting uncomfortably under Sir Ivan's intense scrutiny.

He had a feeling that Sir Ivan had more to say but the knight remained silent. That said, Merlin couldn't help the wash of relief that flooded over him when he heard Arthur's voice, berating him.

"If you're going to stand around, avoiding your chores, Merlin, do stop distracting my men," Arthur called and Merlin turned to face the oncoming prince. Though his words were aimed at Merlin, his eyes were transfixed on Sir Ivan, a warning held within their depths. "Your slothfulness is becoming contagious."

He opened his mouth, retort already at the tip of his tongue, but thought better of it. Instead, he watched as Sir Ivan inclined his head in respect to Arthur, uttering a soft 'Sire' before moving out onto the fields. "I don't think he likes me," Merlin said when the knight was finally out of earshot.

"He doesn't have to like you, he just has to obey my orders," Arthur answered, staring after Sir Ivan, his features thoughtful and words so soft that Merlin wasn't sure if he was even meant to hear them. But then the look was gone and the prince rounded on Merlin once more, eyebrow raised. "Don't you have things to be doing, Merlin? Because if you don't, I'm sure I can think of something."

"I'm just on my way now, _Sire_ ," he murmured with a mix of thinly veiled sarcasm and false innocence because Arthur knew full well that he had plenty to be getting on with and yet, being Arthur, he was ever so willing to add more to that list. Before he had a chance to offer up anymore chores though, Merlin moved off and back toward the castle.

* * *

Blaine wandered the streets of Camelot in silence as if it was exactly where he was meant to be, each heavy footstep having a purpose. He had expected the place to be filled with whisperings, people huddling in doorways passing on the news of how Prince Arthur's servant had been arrested for sorcery. But there was nothing. There was no news of an upcoming execution or of traitors within the castle's walls and as Blaine drew closer to the castle in question, he began to realise that he had underestimated the young prince. Whilst King Uther was blinded by his hatred of magic, it appeared the younger Pendragon was not equally so.

He moved through the crowds with ease, slipping through them unnoticed like a creeping shadow, and followed the sound of metal clashing against metal until he finally came to the training grounds. His darkened eyes were immediately drawn to the boy warlock and the prince that played ignorant to the truth. Maybe Arthur would not be persuaded to tell his father, his relationship with the warlock clouding the judgements his father would have surely instilled in him, but there were others.

His gaze then flickered to the dirty blond knight that moved onto the training field, the knight's face impassive, though his eyes gave away the anger that boiled beneath. He had been witness to the magic that had killed the wyvern. He would be persuaded and if he wasn't, Blaine already had another action in mind.

He waited until the training was over, his eyes never leaving the knight, and as the others dispersed, he made his approach, following the knight toward a small alcove. He watched for a moment as the knight worked with his blade, caressing it with the cloth he held.

"It doesn't seem quite right, does it? The prince and his servant boy…" he said after a moment, coming to stand before the knight. The knight turned to glare at him but said nothing, returning his attention to the blade, so Blaine continued. "Protecting a sorcerer… it goes against the code of Camelot. If the prince will not tell the king, then someone else should."

The knight froze in his movements, silent as he seemed to weigh up his options. "I will not betray Prince Arthur," were the words that finally slipped from his tongue just as the crooked grin slipped onto Blaine's face.

"And yet you would betray your king?" Blaine tilted is head to the side, surveying the knight carefully. "You would betray Camelot itself? By allowing this sorcerer to live?"

The knight swallowed, his eyes falling to the ground. There was uncertainty in them and Blaine decided to help him make up his mind a little. He dropped a small pouch before the knight, the tie loose enough to reveal the gold coins hidden inside. "It is your duty to protect this kingdom and I can certainly make it worth your while."

"What do you care of the fate of one sorcerer?" He raised his head, looking up from the pouch to meet Blaine's gaze, the uncertainty gone.

"I have my reasons and they do not concern you. The question you should be asking is, what does your king care of the fate of that sorcerer, or any other sorcerer for that matter?" Eyes glowing softly golden, Blaine seemed to defy time itself, moving in far faster than the knight could react to. He retrieved the pouch from the ground before the knight had a chance to and grinned softly. "You will receive this and much more but first, you must tell the king of what you were witness to. When the deed is done and the boy has been executed, meet me by the lake just north of here. Your payment will be with me."

The sky darkening overhead, Blaine turned to leave and the knight said nothing. He didn't need to. The way he eyed the bag of gold greedily said it all. It was a silent agreement but an agreement none the less. Come the morning, the warlock would have nowhere to run. His magic could not save him.


	5. Chapter 5

Merlin was late. It was something Arthur had quickly become used to when it came to the manservant. If he wasn't late or missing, he was off causing trouble somewhere. Though in all honesty, it just seemed that trouble seemed to follow Merlin around like a shadow. But Arthur was used to it all by now. Not that being used to it helped his temper any. Being used to it didn't mean he wasn't going to stalk through the halls, fuming, as he attempted to find the useless idiot.

Glancing out at the morning sun through the windows that overlooked the courtyard, he nearly missed the flash of red and brown at the end of the corridor. "Merlin!" he called out, his steps more purposeful.

A head poked around the corner of the corridor, raven-hair untidy, and then the rest of the body followed. "Sire, you're up early."

"No, Merlin - you're late. Again." He came to a stop in front of his manservant, arms folded across his chest as he waited for an explanation. None came. Instead, Merlin just narrowed his gaze, looking thoughtful as he considered Arthur.

"Are you sure?"

"Did that beast scramble your brain when it knocked you unconscious or are you just purposefully trying to drive me to the point of madness?" As always though, the idiot wasn't even fazed by Arthur's temper. His brow creased slightly and his eyes wandered away to take in the hall instead which, really, was rude even for Merlin. "Merlin, are you even liste-"

"Prince Arthur!" The call cut him off and he span on the spot to face Sir Leon who was being trailed by two guards. At least that explained Merlin's ignorance. "The king requests your immediate presence in the court."

The knight came to a stop before Arthur, a nervous gaze flitting towards Merlin as the guards continued past both him and Arthur. It wasn't until Arthur heard the strangled 'oomph' that he realised where they were headed. His blood ran cold and he found he couldn't turn around, his eyes locked on Sir Leon. "What's this about?"

"He's been accused of sorcery, Sire." The words echoed around the suddenly too quiet corridor and for the longest moment, Arthur couldn't move or speak. "I'm sorry."

"No," Arthur replied, returning to himself, the guards already half-dragging, half-walking a wide eyed Merlin in the direction of the court. "There's been a mistake." He moved forward, ready to pull the guards from Merlin but Sir Leon stepped in his way, allowing them on their way.

"The king, he… he ordered you not to interfere." His face was apologetic and Arthur nodded in understanding. He chose to follow in silence instead.

As he did, he thought about ordering the guards to let Merlin walk on his own but the manservant seemed to be in a distant daze and Arthur doubted he would have made it without the assistance. His own mind was having trouble contemplating the turn of events so he couldn't even begin to comprehend what would be going through Merlin's.

The court was all but empty, bar a few knights, which lined the pillars, and Uther himself. Arthur spared no words or glances on the former, focusing solely on the latter, as he strode forward, placing himself firmly in the centre of the floor as if it was he who was in question and not Merlin. He could hear the guards forcing Merlin to his knees behind but still couldn't look. He wasn't sure what the sight would do to him.

"Father, this is ludicrous!" His eyes locked with Uther's, holding them in a silent battle of wills. "Merlin? A sorcerer? He could no more do magic than he could do a proper day's labour without backtalk."

Uther didn't look away. He held the gaze and Arthur could see the hatred for magic burning clearly in his eyes. "A knight himself witnessed the act."

Footsteps sounded from behind and Arthur felt the blood rush to his head as he saw Sir Ivan pass him by before finally coming to stand beside Uther. It took all Arthur had to hold his body still, willing it not to follow through on his threat to the knight. His hands clenched at his side, fingernails digging painfully into his palms.

"Sir Ivan claims he saw the boy use magic to strike down the beast near the northern borders. Why would he choose to lie about such a thing?" Those cold eyes turned from Arthur and towards Merlin, demanding an answer.

Shaking his head, Arthur turned his back on his father and Sir Ivan, moving to stand beside Merlin. From the corner of his eye, he saw his servant open and close his mouth, face dumbstruck as nothing came out, unable to answer the king. So Arthur answered for him. "Clearly Sir Ivan was mistaken in what he saw. A trick of the light perhaps," he turned back to glare at the knight in question, "Or lack of a good night's rest."

"My Lord," Sir Ivan started, his gaze never leaving Arthur. His face was devoid of emotion though his voice held sympathy that Arthur had a hard time believing to be real. "It must be difficult for the prince to hear these accusations thrown toward one that has served him for so long. It is no surprise that he is struggling to cope with them."

"The beast was already slain when we arrived back at camp. If what Sir Ivan says is true, then surely I would have witnessed some form of this… _magic_ ," he spat the word out like it was dirt in his mouth, ignoring Sir Ivan's words completely, "that he claims to have seen. And yet I saw nothing."

He could feel Merlin's eyes on him and could practically hear the servant's thoughts in the brief silence that followed his statement. After all, he knew that Sir Ivan was speaking the truth so it would be no surprise for him to wonder if Arthur knew as well.

"Whilst none can come close to Prince Arthur's skills in battle, I believe his speed to have been hindered due to the creature's attack." Finally, Sir Ivan tore his eyes away from Arthur and looked to Uther instead, imploring. It made Arthur sick. "I arrived at the camp mere moments before him, just in time to witness the act and see the beast fall."

Uther nodded thoughtfully and relaxed back in his seat as he considered Merlin and the words of Sir Ivan. But Arthur already knew what decision he would come to. He could already see it written in the lines on his face because it was always the same. Evidence or no evidence, witnesses or no witnesses, the accusation had been raised and, therefore, it had to be dealt with.

"Please," Arthur implored. "I trust Merlin with my life."

"More than the knights of Camelot?" his father challenged and Arthur froze on the spot.

A death glare aimed at Sir Ivan, he considered the question carefully. In that moment, as he looked at Ivan and thought of how he had broken his trust, he realised that yes – he did trust Merlin more because Merlin was not just his manservant. Merlin was his friend whereas the knights were there to serve the king and Camelot. He trusted them in battle and though he did trust many with his life, he was no longer sure if he could trust them all.

His throat felt tight, all eyes on him as they awaited an answer. To answer wrongly, or more accurately, to answer inappropriately would cause a stir within the court. Whispers would move through the castle and the knights themselves would feel unrest. He put the same amount of trust in Merlin as he did in his most trustworthy of knights and yet he knew he could not say as much.

"No." The word was barely even a breath as it left his mouth and he tried not to watch as Merlin sagged beside him, shoulders falling just enough for Arthur to notice but not enough for others to see just how deeply that one word hurt. Guilt washed over Arthur as he thought of the word as a dagger to the back and what Uther said next was sure to be an added twist to that metaphorical dagger.

"Very well then," Uther said, as if that settled it. He stood and took a step forward, staring Merlin down. "Do you have anything to add?"

Merlin nodded, his words strong and voice unwavering, refusing to show fear even though his eyes clearly betrayed him. "I didn't do anything wrong. I swear…"

But the words fell on deaf ears, Uther no longer interested. "You were witnessed practising magic and as those in this kingdom know, sorcery is punishable by death." He waved a hand and returned to his seat, the guards already moving forward before the next words even made it out of his mouth. "Take him away."

"No," Merlin pleaded, pulled to his feet by the guards, and Arthur closed his eyes despite himself. "Arthur… I swear…"

He wanted to say that he knew. He wanted to tell him that he believed his words. Anger and guilt flooded through him as Merlin fell silent and Arthur couldn't face him. Seeing the look on his face would only make things harder, it would only make it more difficult for Arthur to control his already tightly wound emotions. There was nothing he could say. He could only glare at Sir Ivan as the knight passed him once more, so close that Arthur felt the red cape caress the skin of his hand, and he almost pulled his sword right there.

The doors to the court closed, leaving Arthur still standing in the centre and his father still seated up front. Looking up, he felt an odd sense of calm wash over him, unreal as it felt like he was floating somewhere deep in the depths of a deadly storm.

He couldn't let Merlin burn.

"This is wrong, Father," he started, his voice hard and distant, the storm drifting just out of reach but looming ever closer. "You are prepared to execute an innocent man because a knight said he used magic. Where is the evidence? Where is the crime?"

Uther looked up, his head tilted as though he could not believe his son was questioning him. "The word of a knight is evidence enough and the crime is the magic itself." He paused and looked over Arthur, appraising him. "Your relationship with the boy has clouded your judgement of him."

"It is my relationship with him that allows me to see he is no threat to Camelot. I cannot say the same for those who would see a good man die all for the sake of a small piece of glory." Because what other reason would Sir Ivan have for betraying Arthur? What did he possibly have to gain from telling the king about what he saw?

"I do not expect you to understand but I do expect you to obey me when I tell you not to interfere." Icy and bitter, demanding and callous, the words bit into Arthur. When silence was the only response, Uther shifted forward, his eyes searching Arthur's for the answer he wanted as he repeated his order. "You will _not_ interfere. Do you understand?"

Arthur understood perfectly. He stood tall, his hand resting on the hilt of his word. "Yes, Sire," he answered, voice hard and just as cold as Uther's. He inclined his head without breaking his gaze then turned to leave before his father could speak again.

When he had neglected to tell his father about Merlin and what he had witnessed, he had made a decision. He wasn't going to go back on it now. Merlin was more than just a servant. He trusted Merlin and, for the most part, Merlin seemed to trust him. Without any real reason, Merlin believed in him. And Arthur wasn't going to break that trust and belief now.


	6. Chapter 6

Slumped and weary, Merlin sat with his back against the wall of the cell. He stared at the floor without truly seeing it, his head down and eyes open but unfocused. The worlds circled around his head, over and over again, Uther's death sentence ringing loud inside his own mind. The day had come, the one he had tried so hard not to think about – the day his magic was revealed. Was this really it? After everything? Was there no way back? The thought was numbing, leaving him cold inside and a little bit lost.

What Merlin couldn't decide was, which was worse - Uther's words or the unreadable expression on Arthur's face? Even now, he wanted Arthur to trust him so badly. But what did it matter? Arthur had found out the truth and Merlin wasn't even going to get the chance to explain. There was no way out. Unlike all the other times he had found himself thrown in the cells, this time felt more definite… more final.

"Merlin…" The voice was soft and pleading and Merlin looked up to see Gaius watching him through the bars. Confusion was written across his face, a hand wrapped around one of the bars as if to steady himself.

"Gaius," he managed to say before his throat closed up. He pushed himself from the ground and strode over to the old physician, his own hands curling around the bars. They were cold to the touch, rough against his skin. "Sir Ivan…" he started, his voice dropping to barely a whisper before disappearing completely, leaving him swallowing hard to regain himself. "He saw me, in the forest with the creature. He saw me use magic to kill it."

It felt more like a confession than an explanation. Dread and guilt washed over him, his eyes stinging from unshed tears so much that he was forced to close them. Using magic always made him feel alive. It felt like a tingling sensation creeping across his skin, a lover's caress and embrace, wrapping him a warm blanket that was safe and perfect and exactly how he was meant to be. It made him feel free. And yet now, all he felt was sick, as if he had committed some great sin. Or maybe he himself was the sin?

"I'm not getting out of this, am I?" he asked when Gaius didn't reply, his forehead falling to rest against the harsh metal. His grip tightened on the bars, hopelessness, anger and fear swelling up inside of him. Then Gaius placed a hand on his and Merlin opened his eyes, letting the feelings fall away to be replaced by the numbness again.

"It is not your destiny to die, Merlin." Though each word was barely above a whisper, Merlin could hear the conviction and strength behind them and though he couldn't help but disagree with what was said, he could tell that Gaius believed. "Uther cannot do this. Sorcerer or not, you have done nothing wrong."

Merlin shook his head. "Sir Ivan saw what happened. He knows the truth… If I claim he's lying then I'd be a liar as well as a sorcerer and I'd still be no better off. Uther would never believe the word of a servant over a knight."

"Then perhaps he should trust in the word of a friend…"

The words hung in the air, their implication with them, and Merlin could only watch as Gaius turned to leave.

* * *

Gaius moved swiftly through the halls of the castle and toward the king's chambers, his rounds long forgotten and mind solely devoted to this one task. Eyes watched him as he passed by and tongues stilled. At least they had enough respect to keep their whisperings to themselves and to not let him hear them, or maybe they were just afraid of what he would do if he did. After all, it was no secret that he had taken Merlin under his wing and that the boy was practically like a son to him.

The young servant boy that had found him earlier had been skittish, to say the least, when he delivered the bad news. He probably would have fled the scene if Gaius hadn't beaten him to it, leaving his chambers and heading straight for the cells. When Merlin had come into his life, trouble had soon followed and Gaius found himself fearing that one day the worst would come. But not yet surely… he had far too much to live for, far too much still to do.

"Gaius!" He stilled and turned to face Gwen as she chased after him down the hall. Her brow was furrowed, her lips forming a frown and, when she finally came to a stop in front him, she sounded almost breathless. "I just heard about Merlin… is it true? That he's been accused of sorcery?"

Gaius nodded, face solemn. "I'm afraid it is, my dear."

"That's impossible... We have to do something!" She stared imploringly at him and Gaius placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She truly was a good friend to Merlin and Gaius felt grateful to her for that.

"The best thing you can do is not get yourself into trouble. Merlin would never forgive himself if you did." He tried his best to offer a smile but it didn't work and she merely shook her head.

"But he's innocent, Gaius. I can't stand around and do nothing. If it were one of us…" The rest of her words were left unsaid because she didn't really need to say them. If it were one of them, Merlin would have stopped at nothing to prove their innocence, just like he had done in the past. "Please…"

"My dear," he said, attempting to soothe her, "You must have faith. I will do everything in my power to help Merlin, I swear." When she nodded, he patted her arm before gently pulling his hand away. "Now, I must speak with Uther and you should be on your way too. Merlin needs us out here and not locked up in the cells with him."

She nodded once more and made her way back to her work, leaving Gaius to find his way to the king's chamber once more. It didn't take him long and the guards opened the doors immediately for him, closing them once again when he had entered the room. They had been expecting him, as had Uther, though his posture did not let on as much. He stood by the window, looking down upon the courtyard; his arms folded behind his back, the only acknowledgement of Gaius' presence were his words.

"I'm sorry about this, old friend." But he didn't sound sorry at all and if Gaius could see his face, he was sure that he certainly wouldn't see any sign of remorse in it.

"Then you know why I'm here, my Lord." He stood several feet away from his king, close enough to see his head fall and shoulders slump as Uther let out a breath.

"The boy is a sorcerer, Gaius. What would you have me do?"

Keeping his gaze on Uther, Gaius took a tentative step forward. He knew Uther's stance on magic and knew it would be impossible to make him see that Merlin was no enemy of Camelot. If he tried, then Uther would only have him thrown in the cells with him. "He has committed no crime, practised no magic…"

Uther swung to face him, any false sorrow or remorse gone, replaced by anger and outrage. His eyes were narrowed, one hand clenched loosely into a fist. "Are you suggesting that a knight of Camelot lied?"

"No, Sire, I am merely suggesting that Sir Ivan may have been mistaken. Perhaps there was someone else present at the time, someone he did not see."

"Nonsense." The word was hard and unforgiving and Gaius knew in that moment that Merlin was right. Uther would not change his mind on the subject. Voice softening, Uther continued, "I know this must be of shock to you, to learn that the boy you housed is a sorcerer but it is the truth, Gaius. By revealing his true colours, he has shown he is no friend of Camelot."

"Merlin would never harm a living soul, he couldn't. He's far too gentle, too kind. I know this boy, Uther, I have watched over him daily. This is no mask, no trick… if it were, would he have truly put himself in harm's way to protect Arthur time and time again?"

At the mention of his son, Uther turned back to the window, silent in thought. But the silence did not last. "Even if that were so, Gaius, magic corrupts. We have both been witness to that. In time, he would lose himself to it."

Gaius let go of a brief breath and lowered his head, relenting. Innocent or guilty, Uther didn't care, lost in mistakes that were foolishly made too long ago. And as his king refused to listen to reason, then that meant Gaius was left with only one choice. He would be forced to defy him once more, as he had done all those years ago during the great purge. Gaius had not allowed Uther's misguided revenge to reach Merlin's father and he wasn't about to let it reach Merlin either.

"Very well, my Lord," he answered. "Though you understand that if you go through with this, you will be placing me in a very difficult position. I will stand by your side on many things, Uther, even if I do not agree with you. But some things cannot be forgiven."

Silence followed and Gaius took that as his cue to leave, allowing the king to remain alone with his thoughts as Gaius wandered alone with his.

* * *

When Gaius had left, Merlin returned to his position by the wall, watching as the sunlight drifted in through a small window. It was barely enough to see by, the torches outside the cell doing most of the lighting, but it allowed Merlin to tell how much time had passed. With nothing but his own thoughts and that feeling of dread that threatened to swallow him whole, it passed very slowly. The seconds were drawn out to feel like the minutes, the minutes drawn out to feel like hours and the hours, they almost felt like days themselves.

By the time he heard footsteps echoing down the hall and coming ever so closer to his cell, the sunlight was all but gone. He paid little attention to whoever was approaching though, assuming it would be a guard come to tell him of the details of his execution. No doubt the king would want him dealt with quickly.

Voices followed the footsteps and for the first time, Merlin looked up and out at the corridor expectantly. He had heard Arthur. He was sure of it. No one else could possibly sound that pompous and arrogant. But the hope that flared in his chest was short lived when the blond haired prince approached and came to stand outside the cell, his face like thunder.

He motioned toward the lock of the cell and a guard moved forward, turning the key and leaving it in place when he stood back. Arthur didn't move, his eyes locked on Merlin and Merlin swallowed hard, shifting under the intense gaze.

"Leave us," the prince ordered, practically spitting the words out and the guards obeyed, their faces saying that they were glad to do so as they did not wish to be around with the prince in such a temper. He stepped forward and into the cell, his gaze never leaving Merlin.

Pushing himself to his feet awkwardly, Merlin tried to read him, not daring to speak and yet wishing he could explain everything all in one breath. He opened his mouth but nothing came out and he found himself wishing that Arthur would just blink or something - anything besides standing there in silence, staring at him.

Slowly, the prince's eyes moved away from Merlin's face in order to regard the rest of him, as if judging him. When he did speak, his voice was flat and empty and left Merlin unsure of how to reply. "You're a sorcerer."


	7. Chapter 7

"You're a sorcerer."

Silence hung in the air and Merlin opened his mouth to deny it. He could feel his chest tightening, his throat working as he forced himself to keep eye contact. "Arthur…" he started but that was all that would come out.

Arthur shook his head, already dismissing the lie that he no doubt saw in Merlin's eyes. Still, his face remained unreadable, though Merlin swore he saw the prince's eyes soften for the briefest moment or maybe that was just a reflection from the torch flames. "Sir Ivan wasn't the only one that saw you."

The meaning behind Arthur's words was clear and Merlin found himself fighting against a wave of dizziness that hit him. Heart speeding up and lungs all but failing him, he refused to falter and stagger back even as his legs threatened to fall out from under him. The strange behaviour, suspicious glances, the way Arthur had behaved with Sir Ivan… it was beginning to make sense.

Wait, no… it didn't make sense. If Arthur knew, then why hadn't he been thrown in the cells earlier? Why hadn't he been left in the woods to die? Merlin furrowed his brow, confused as he stared slack jawed at the man before him. Arthur couldn't have seen. If he had, then that meant he had lied in front of his father – lied _to_ his father. "I don't understa-" he tried to say but Arthur cut him off, impatience showing on his features.

"How long?" he demanded and when Merlin didn't answer immediately, he took a step closer and reiterated the question, emphasising each word. "How long?"

Unable to look Arthur in the eye when he answered, Merlin dropped his gaze. There was no denying it, no lies that could explain it all away and no Will there to take the blame. The truth was out. "I didn't choose to be like this," he explained in an attempt to defend himself though he knew it was well past that now. "It was how I was born."

"You were born with magic?" Arthur's voice dropped and Merlin found himself looking up once again, noting how the thunder and anger had seemed to have fallen away from Arthur's face. This time, it was the prince that couldn't meet his eyes when he spoke. "You should have told me."

He sounded… hurt.

"Told you?" Merlin asked, his eyebrows rising and eyes widening, the incredulousness also creeping into his voice as he continued. "Yes, because that wouldn't have been the least bit suicidal."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthur's eyes snapped up, his voice raising and the look he gave Merlin was pure Prat.

It made Merlin feel like he would no longer collapse at any moment, his legs gaining strength, whilst the invisible force that had been crushing his chest loosened before finally letting go. The tension that filled the air still sat there but not as strong. It was familiar and comfortable and it was the Prat in front of him, not a prince with cold eyes and a death sentence on his lips

"Let me think," he began. "What do I mean? Why wouldn't I possibly tell you? Maybe because magic is banned in Camelot and all sorcerers are evil and all they want is the destruction of Camelot and oh, look – there goes a commoner who accidentally helped a sorcerer without knowing who they were. We better arrest her… and the sorcerer himself, off with his he-"

"Alright, I get the picture," Arthur interrupted before pausing and looking down. When he continued, his tone was solemn. "I am not my father, Merlin."

"But you are his son and the crown prince of Camelot. It is your _duty_ to protect the kingdom from magic."

"It is my duty to protect the people from injustice…"

Merlin swallowed hard, studying the man before him – the prince that would one day be king of Camelot. His eyes were downcast, his jaw clenched, as he appeared lost in thought, one hand resting loosely on the hilt of his sword as the other hung by his side, catching against his chainmail. Was he actually accepting Merlin? It was true that in the past, there had been times where Merlin had felt elated whenever Arthur showed that he did not share his father's hatred of magic but those times had always been short lived. Something always happened. That is, magic happened in the worst way and then Merlin would be left in doubt again.

"Why are you wearing chainmail?" The question slipped out before Merlin had a chance to think about it, his mind finally catching onto Arthur's apparel as his eyes narrowed and he became even more confused. It seemed to snap Arthur out of the deep thought that had consumed him and the prince looked up, more urgent now.

"Yes," he said, more to himself than to Merlin as Merlin couldn't see how that answered his question at all. He moved out of the cell and glanced down the corridor. "We have to move quickly."

Merlin could only watch as Arthur moved down the hall several steps before marching back again to stare at Merlin who hadn't moved an inch. "Are you deaf as well now, Merlin? I said _quickly_."

"You're breaking me out?" He didn't mean to sound so sceptical and yet he couldn't think of any other reaction.

"Why do you think I came down here, you nitwit?" His voice was hushed and yet the words still managed to vibrate around the air and Merlin realised that he hadn't really thought about why Arthur had come to see him. To demand the truth? To say goodbye? He certainly hadn't thought it would be to help him escape. Lying to his father was one thing but this was another entirely.

"Why? Why would you do that?" Still he didn't move, his body frozen to the spot.

Letting go of a long breath, Arthur came to stand in front of him. "We can't be friends, Merlin…" He turned his head to the side but not before Merlin caught sight of something in the prince's eyes.

"You've said that before," Merlin said, wary of where the prince was going with his line of thought but Arthur just ignored his comment and carried on.

"We can't… but I can't think of any other way to describe it so maybe that is what we are." His face lit up, a cocky grin splitting it. "Besides, none of the other servants are quite as idiotic or entertaining as you."

"Gee, thanks." Merlin raised an eyebrow, his voice dry but he couldn't help the smile that slipped onto his lips. It wasn't until they were approaching the guard station that it occurred to him that unless Arthur knew of a secret passage, they couldn't just slip past and out unseen. Unless of course they were unconscious, as they apparently were. "What did you do?"

Arthur shrugged and threw a small vial in Merlin's direction, unable to stop the roll of his eyes at Merlin's wild juggling act as he only just caught it. "I may have slipped something into their drinks when they weren't looking."

Studying the vial, Merlin recognised the scrawl of writing on the half-peeled off label and winced in sympathy for the guards. "Where did you get this?"

"I borrowed it from Gaius," the prince said nonchalantly but Merlin wasn't convinced.

He may have been no physician but Gaius had instilled enough knowledge, and warnings in the form of swats to the back of the head, for him to know not to touch certain potions. "And Gaius just let you have it?"

Arthur stopped in his stalking forward and rounded on Merlin, the look on his face plainly saying 'are you really questioning the word of the crown prince of Camelot?' but when Merlin just raised a sceptical eyebrow, the prince relented. "Okay, he wasn't exactly there when I took it."

Merlin nodded, glancing down at the vial again, an amused smile forming on his face. "You do know you're not supposed to use the whole thing, right? They're going to wake up with one hell of a headache in maybe two… three days time."

"Oh shut up, Merlin!" he sniped though Merlin noted the flash of guilt that washed over his face briefly. He snatched the vial back and turned on his heel once again, grabbing the scruff of Merlin's shirt with his spare hand. "Now get moving, unless of course you actually _want_ to be executed for sorcery."

They made it to the courtyard, slipping through shadowed corridors and dodging passing patrols, before they were forced to come to a halt. Three knights stood on guard at the far end and apparently even Arthur the Mighty wasn't fool enough to believe they'd be able to slip past them. Then again, if asked, Merlin knew the prince would probably mutter something about incompetent servants and how said servants would have given them away.

"Great, just great," said prince growled out, his aggravation coming through. "He must have doubled the guards. Like he thinks _you're_ some kind of a threat."

Merlin didn't need to ask who Arthur was referring to, it was all too clear in the way he said the word – as if he wasn't saying 'he' at all, but instead 'Sire' or 'Father' or 'King'. The respect held in that word was completely opposite to that which was held when he said 'you're' and Merlin glowered at him, refusing to bite back.

"We're going to have to double back. Maybe we can make it to the armoury without being seen."

He was already turning away but Merlin stood still, ignoring him and focusing instead on the barrels at the opposite end of the courtyard. A part of him was aware, as he raised his hand and allowed the words to slip easily from his tongue, that he was actually performing magic in front of Arthur and not even attempting to hide it. That very same part of him felt a kind of thrill at the thought whilst another part was screaming at him, telling him that by doing so, he was crossing a line that he could never go back over. But maybe it was time for him to do so.

The barrels clattered and clashed loudly and the knights immediately rushed off toward the source of the noise, the distraction leaving the way clear for Merlin and Arthur to push forward, one step closer to freedom. Merlin tripped once, but recovered quickly and, thankfully, silently. It earned him a clip around the ear as Arthur dragged him up and forced him to continue moving. Their quickened pace turned into a full out run and they kept running until they were safely out of the castle grounds and wandering the empty back alleys of the town.

As he struggled for breath but kept moving forward despite it, Merlin knew that he was the reason Arthur had slowed. The prince was a warrior, a knight with all the best qualities. He could have kept on running despite the heavy chainmail he wore or the way his boots were pulled down by soggy patches of mud here and there. Merlin on the other hand, didn't possess the same stamina or ability to breathe as evenly. He wondered offhandedly if the ability had anything to do with using up the air that kept the prince's ego so highly inflated.

"Why don't you breathe a little louder, Merlin? It's not like we're trying to hide or anything?" Arthur hissed, throwing a piercing glare over his shoulder and at Merlin before turning his attention back to the streets.

Merlin glared back. "Maybe princes… don't need to breathe," he panted, "but for us mere… mortals, it's kind of… a requirement."

There was a retort there, Merlin knew it as he watched Arthur's back, but whatever it was, it wasn't spoken out loud. Where there would have been words, possibly an insult or two, the ringing of bells filled the air. Warning bells. The alarm sounded, as someone had no doubt finally realised that the prisoner, the 'evil sorcerer', was no longer in his cell.


	8. Chapter 8

There was very little light in the lower town, shadows creeping over the places that the moonlight refused to touch. Most of the occupants were asleep, if the great bells hadn't woken them from their slumber as they continued to ring loud and clear, and those that weren't stayed off the streets. The knights however, were searching them tirelessly, using what little torchlight they had to see into the darkness that had fallen.

Arthur held up a hand and came to a stop, hugging at the wall as he peered around the corner. The sound of rustling and heavy footsteps made him alert and he watched as several knights came into view. Two quickly became preoccupied with a haystack whilst a third started making his way cautiously down a narrow alley opposite where he and Merlin hid.

"We need to get off the streets until its safe enough to make it past the gate." He pulled back and looked to Merlin, wondering just how on earth they were going to manage it. He knew the knights, he had trained with them, and he also knew his father. If they were seen, the knights would kill Merlin where he stood, no questions asked.

"We could hide at Gwen's – her house isn't that far." Merlin's voice was a whisper and his ice blue eyes, while fearful, were determined and calm. He was one of the most, no – he _was_ the most incompetent manservant ever and yet sneaking through Camelot, making his way past the guards, there was a competency there that could only come with practice. What else didn't Arthur know about him?

"Arthur?" Merlin pressed and Arthur dragged his thoughts away from the puzzle that was Merlin. Those thoughts would have to wait until they were safely out of Camelot.

He nodded and took in what little he could see of the buildings around him. Whilst he had wandered the streets of the lower town many times and had occasionally walked past Gwen's for no other reason than for the possibility of seeing her, none of the area looked familiar to him. Each wooden door looked just the same as the last.

Merlin seemed to notice his hesitation and though the manservant didn't say anything, that annoying, knowing smile slid onto his face and he set off, leaving Arthur to trail behind him. In barely no time, he had stopped at a doorway hidden away by darkness at the back of what must have been Gwen's house. A few soft words later, that Arthur was sure had been magical in nature, followed by a click, and Merlin was opening the door and creeping inside.

"They're looking for him, aren't they?" Gwen's voice drifted through the small house and Arthur reached out, gripping Merlin's shoulder to stop him from revealing himself to whoever the handmaiden was talking to. Without knowing who it was, Arthur wasn't sure they could be trusted.

He moved passed Merlin and toward the curtain that separated the front of the house from the back. As he pushed the flimsy fabric to the side, a second voice spoke up, unaware of his presence.

"Yes," the voice said and Arthur knew the owner even without seeing him standing there in his familiar garb, "though Merlin is resourceful. I'm sure he won't make it easy for them."

Gaius stood with his back to Arthur, blocking most of the prince's view of Gwen. Moving forward, Arthur allowed his eyes to roam the small room and happy that there was no one else hiding there, he cleared his throat and pulled on a sceptical look as the old physician turned to him. "Merlin? Resourceful?"

"Arthur!" Gwen rushed forward before he could say anything else, wrapping her arms around his neck in an awkward hug. He breathed her in for a moment and relaxed at the scent of lavender but then she was pulling back again, all too quickly. "I-I'm sorry," she stuttered, a blush spreading across her cheeks as her head fell submissively, her eyes raising to meet his briefly before falling again. "What are you doing here?"

Fear settled briefly in her eyes and her fingers began to work at nonexistent creases in her dress. She didn't even give him chance to answer. "You're looking for Merlin." It wasn't a question but a resigned statement.

"Not quite…" he answered, his eyes concentrated on her as she looked past him, eyes widening no doubt at the sight of Merlin. The look that lit up her face, making her seem even more radiant, was the same look she had given him that time during the jousting tournament when he had allowed the farmer to take the glory. He had to tear himself away from her face to glare at Merlin instead. "I thought I told you stay back there."

"Technically," Merlin started, moving forward with a sheepish grin on his face, "You never actually said anything."

"It was implied!" Arthur went on, his voice rising into what he refused to admit was an incredulous whine. Any of his knights would have known not to come out until Arthur had said that the coast was clear but then, Merlin was no knight. He was something else altogether.

"Merlin," Gaius interrupted and Arthur turned to see the pure relief on the old man's face as he moved forward and wrapped his arms around Merlin. It made Arthur feel a twinge in his gut and though he would never say it out loud, he was jealous of the father figure that Merlin had found in the physician. The pride was always so obvious.

"I'm fine," Merlin said, detangling himself from the man and answering the unasked question that lingered in his eyes.

Arthur looked away, shifting uncomfortably as he thought of how by just being there he was intruding on the moment that the pair shared, more being expressed in their silence than Arthur thought could ever be expressed in a dozen conversations with his father. A soft hand squeezed his arm and he found himself focusing on that instead, Gwen's dark eyes glistening in the candlelight as she gazed back at him. "You are a good man, Arthur Pendragon."

"Thank you, Guinevere," he replied, voice a gentle whisper, though he barely felt deserving of her praise. He smiled warmly and she returned the smile before turning away and moving toward her small kitchen counter.

"You'll need supplies," she said as she busied herself with the few pieces of food she had, placing them on a small blanket to wrap up.

"Gwen… you don't have to do that." Merlin took a step toward her and Arthur agreed with his sentiments.

"Merlin's right," he said when Gwen ignored Merlin's protests and continued on. "I doubt we'll have time to rest let alone eat."

"Don't be ridiculous." She dismissed the pair of them with a wave of her hand and packed the food into a small bag that she handed to Merlin. He refused to take it at first but when his stomach growled, she forced it onto him with a triumphant smile.

Gaius shook his head and for a moment, Arthur thought he was about to agree with them but the moment was short lived. "You should listen to Gwen. You'll both need your strength for the journey ahead."

And that, Arthur couldn't argue with. Uther would not rest. He would continue hunting Merlin which meant that they would have to take whatever they could whenever they could get it. The little food that Gwen offered them would be useful. So he relented and let out a long breath, nodding as he did so. Merlin opened his mouth to say something but when he looked at Arthur, he shut it again and the words were left unsaid as he chose to follow Arthur's lead and drape the bag over his shoulder.

"We need to get out of Camelot," Arthur said, deciding a change of a subject was needed. He moved toward the small window at the front of the house and glanced out onto the empty street beyond. "The gate will be too heavily guarded, the burials vaults too after the last time…"

"There is another way." Gaius moved forward, his eyebrow raised as he looked over the prince. Arthur studied him back, knowing that the old physician knew of many more secrets of Camelot than he did. "During the Great Purge, there was a passage at the outer walls of Camelot. Uther sealed the entrance for fear of sorcerers using it to invade."

"But if it's sealed, how would we get through?" Merlin narrowed his eyes in what Arthur could only describe as an imitation of thought.

"When the Great Dragon attacked, I believe part of the entrance was uncovered. Uther seems unconcerned and with the size of the gap, I don't blame him – it's barely large enough for a small animal to fit through, let alone a human being. But with a little… help… the gap could be made big enough for you both to pass through." He didn't need to specify that by 'help' he meant magic.

Arthur nodded and began to pace as he thought it over. "Then that's where we'll head. Once we've broken through, it'll only be a matter of time before the guards discover the way has been opened so we'll have to move quickly. How long is this passage?"

"One furlong, maybe two…"

"Good. As long as Merlin doesn't act like his usual clumsy self, we'll be out in no time." He glanced out of the window one more time before moving towards the back of the house. It was only a matter of time before the knights started knocking on doors in order to further their search which meant it would be safer for Gwen and Gaius if he and Merlin did a vanishing act. "Where's this entrance located?"

"At the northern wall, there is an old guard's station – Uther had it built to hide the way. You'll be able to find the entrance when you reach it. And Sire… Merlin – be careful."

* * *

Blaine settled by the lake just north of Camelot. The forest and air was still around him, silent and calm, and he smiled. Tomorrow the knight would come to him with news of the boy. He would tell him of how the boy had been arrested and then of how he had escaped from Camelot. Leaning forward, Blaine touched the water and watched the images that settled there. He already knew all this. He already knew of the knight's fleeting triumph before it turned to failure. Of course, the knight didn't need to know that it was better this way.

Eyes still following the images, entranced by their movement, Blaine's smile turned twisted and crooked, his eyes darkening as he loomed over the water. Prince Arthur truly was the one the prophecies of old had spoken of, his actions proved that. By aiding the warlock, he had shown himself to indeed be the future king of Camelot that would unite the lands of Albion. But by helping the boy to escape, he was leaving Camelot open. He was ignorant of the consequences his actions would have and of the conflicts that would rise because of them.

"Albion will not be united," he growled into the water, watching the two boys – prince and warlock – that would be the ones to bring it about. "Your deaths shall see to that."

* * *

Uther stood by the window, watching out over Camelot. The bells had been ringing for close on two hours and the boy had still not been found. His grip tightened against the window ledge. He would not allow a sorcerer, which had played the court for fools, to escape.

"Sire!" a knight called from behind him and he turned to face them.

"What news?" he asked, face expectant and the knight squirmed under the gaze that Uther held on him. That meant any news the knight held would be bad news.

"The old passage at the north wall, it appears the boy may have used it to escape the city. Several knights are currently out searching the forest for any signs of him."

"And my son?" he questioned, though he already feared the answer.

The knight was hesitant, his gaze dropping to the floor. "He's missing, my Lord."

After a long moment, Uther spoke again, his voice harsh and cold as he thought of the servant boy. "I want the boy alive. I wish to deal with him personally."

"Yes, Sire."


	9. Chapter 9

Merlin stumbled to a halt beside a tree, one hand against the trunk to hold him steady. "Now what?" he questioned, looking to Arthur whose attention was still on the way they had come.

"I hadn't thought that far ahead, I was too busy helping my bumbling manservant to escape," he answered distractedly, not sparing Merlin a glance. His hand hovered over the hilt of his sword and if Merlin didn't know any better, he would swear the prince had stopped breathing altogether. "Do you hear that?"

Frowning, Merlin began to shake his head. All he could hear was his own ragged breathing and the sound of the breeze in the leaves. Then he heard it - the distant sound of shouts, commands being thrown back and forth. The knights had found the passage. "Couldn't they have waited until morning," he moaned, knowing they hadn't been given enough time. They were still too close to Camelot.

"They are _knights_ , _Mer_ lin. They'll keep pursuing until the object of that pursuit has been found." Growling, more to himself than to Merlin, Arthur started moving again, dragging Merlin along with him.

"Oh well, _that's_ comforting." The sarcasm laced around the words like thick ink, staining them. He followed, attempting to match Arthur's pace as he jogged behind, weaving in and out of the trees. "Because it's not like they're pursuing me or anything."

At that, Arthur clamped a hand onto his arm and dragged him down to the ground, a sharp 'shhhh' coming from his mouth as his eyes darted back and forth through the forestry. Confused, and a little bit in pain at the sudden drop, Merlin followed his gaze and found it locking on a patch several feet away where the several bushes rustled from movement. Surely they couldn't have caught up that fast?

The movement passed, no sign of knights or any animals, but they remained where they were for several long moments after. The occasional order was bellowed out in the distance, though each time was louder than the last, before finally they seemed to get further away. It was then that Arthur apparently decided it would be safe to move again, pulling Merlin unceremoniously up from the ground with him.

They barely managed to move two feet before a noise from behind stopped them dead. Arthur reacted quickly, drawing his sword whilst pushing Merlin back a step and behind him. His hand still rested on Merlin's chest as he stood between him and the knight that stared at the pair. The message was clear, Merlin thought to himself, 'if you want the sorcerer, you have to deal with me first'.

It was Sir Leon that had found them and Merlin felt a stab in his gut at the thought. Sir Leon was one of Arthur's best knights and one of his most trustworthy. He had gone with them to fight the great dragon even though he knew he would surely die. If Arthur had to fight him in order to protect Merlin, well… Merlin wasn't exactly keen on that line of thought.

"Leon!" a voice called off from beyond the bushes, "What is it?"

Sir Leon lowered his sword and looked over his shoulder but the words that came out of his mouth were not what Merlin had expected. "Nothing here but frightened animals. We should join the others in searching the east."

The other knight remained silent, apparently satisfied with his answer and Merlin felt himself relax. The tightly wound knot that had found its way into his stomach uncoiled and Arthur's hand fell away from his chest. The prince no longer pointed his sword toward Sir Leon, aiming it at the ground instead though Merlin noted that if he was truly at ease, he would have sheathed it.

"I am in your debt, Sir Leon," Arthur said, his voice so low that Merlin was surprised the knight had even managed to hear him at all.

Shaking his head, Sir Leon bowed. "You have done far too much for Camelot to ever be in my debt." When he rose from the bow, his eyes moved between them. "You must go – I can buy you some time but not much." He sheathed his sword and took a step forward, holding out his hand. "Your scarf, I can use it as a distraction."

Uncertainty stalled Merlin but when he saw Arthur nod, he slipped the fabric off and passed it over to the knight. This would be the second scarf he had lost all for the cause of a distraction. If he kept this up, he would have none left. But then, his others were back in his chamber at Camelot which meant they were as good as gone now too as he doubted he would ever be able to go back while Uther was king.

"Now go," Sir Leon commanded, gripping the fabric tight and already making his way back to the other knights.

"Thank you," Arthur replied softly, turning away. "I won't forget this."

Though their pace was still fast, Arthur had presumably decided to take pity on Merlin, no longer forcing him to move quicker than his legs could carry him. Finally, when the first specks of daylight began drifting through the trees - and at this point Merlin felt like he was beginning to sleepwalk, only hunger keeping him awake enough to move at all - Arthur came to stop.

"We'll rest here for a few hours, catch our breath." But Merlin knew that what he really meant was that Merlin would catch _his_ breath and Arthur would wait, on guard, for him to do so.

"No, I'm fine. We can keep moving," Merlin answered, though his stomach growled in betrayal as it had back at Gwen's house – traitorous body.

"Don't be an idiot, Merlin," Arthur shot back at him, dropping to the ground and resting his back against a tree. "Or maybe that's too much for me to ask of you?"

An insult slipped out from under Merlin's breath as he joined the prince by the tree, pulling the bag from his shoulder and digging inside for the blanket of food.

"What was that?"

When he lifted his head, he was met with a raised eyebrow and that familiar dangerous smile that graced Arthur's lips. "Nothing, Sire," he denied innocently, unfolding the blanket and holding it out to the prince. "Bread?"

With a scoff, Arthur looked away and shook his head. "No, you eat it. You need it more."

He thought about disagreeing but could tell by the look in Arthur's eyes that it would be useless. Putting a small piece of bread to the side, he placed the rest back in the bag. Even though his stomach insisted he was hungry, he found that his wandering thoughts distracted him too much from the prospect of eating and he could only pick at the bread with little enthusiasm.

"They're not going to stop hunting for me, are they?" he asked after too long a silence. Arthur didn't answer but then, he didn't have to. Merlin already knew the answer. It made him think of his father and how he had been driven to living in a cave. Would that be what would happen to him? Would he be left with no other place to go, constantly hiding and constantly running because of who he was and what he could do?

Swallowing part of the bread, he gave up on the rest and placed it on the bag beside him. It was either that or he would just keep picking at it until there was nothing large enough left to eat. "What will happen when you go back to Camelot?"

Arthur laughed beside him, though it held less humour than it normally did, and nudged him with his shoulder playfully. "I'll just say I was kidnapped by the evil sorcerer."

"That's not funny." He hung his head and grabbed a stick that lay beside him, using it to prod at the soft ground and fallen leaves that covered it.

"I know…" Arthur answered after a beat, his voice losing the teasing tone and turning more sober. "I'm sorry." He breathed in deep and Merlin looked up, faltering at the grave expression on the prince's face. "I don't think I'll be welcomed back with open arms… if at all. If my father doesn't know I've helped you escape, he soon will and he'll be furious."

"But you are going back?" Merlin frowned in confusion as he studied Arthur, waiting on a reply. When none came, he went on. "Camelot needs you, Arthur. More than you realise."

But Arthur just ignored his comments and tossed a stone across the small clearing where it landed almost soundlessly in the brush at the other end. "Get some rest, Merlin. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

He opened his mouth to protest and then let out a huff when Arthur's gaze continued to remain fixated on where the stone had landed. Surely he wasn't seriously considering not going back? Whatever happened, Uther would forgive him… wouldn't he? He was his only son, his only heir.

Not knowing what else to say, Merlin shuffled down and looked up at the canopy created by the trees. He had no intention of falling asleep but somehow, it came to claim him anyway, not caring how hard he was trying to stay awake.

* * *

Dawn had broken but most of Camelot was still resting. For those that weren't, there was a low buzz stirring in the air as rumours were slowly spreading of the sorcerer's escape. The knights still searched and King Uther waited in the throne room for news. One loose fist rested just above his lips while the other gripped the back of his throne tightly. The doors at the end of the hall opened and his vacant gaze was dragged away from the spiralling dust and to the knight that strode toward him.

"Sir Ivan, you bring me news?" he questioned, straightening as he allowed his hand to fall away from his face.

"There is still no sign of the boy, my Lord, or Prince Arthur." He came to a stop several feet away and stood tall as he relayed the information. "We believe they went east."

"They?" Nodding in understanding, Uther lowered his gaze. "So you believe my son is aiding him in his escape?"

"I'm afraid so, Sire." There was no hesitation in his answer, only pure honesty.

"Tell me, Sir Ivan," Uther started, moving away from the throne and toward the great windows that lined the hall. "Why would my son betray Camelot and myself? All for the sake of some _boy_ – a sorcerer no less."

He looked to the knight, hoping that someone else would have an answer for the question that had been burning him since he had learned that Arthur was nowhere to be found.

"Perhaps he does not know what he does. As you say, the boy is a sorcerer. The whole time he has been serving Prince Arthur, he could have been weaving his magic on him. If the boy is killed, then surely whatever spell he has placed on the young prince shall be broken also."

"For all our sakes, I hope you're right."

* * *

Gaius tried to busy himself with his potions but by the time he had broken the second jar from lack of concentration, he gave up completely. His mind was elsewhere, focused on Merlin and Arthur as he worried for the pair. "Confound it," he cursed, pulling his freshly cut finger away from the broken glass on the table. Well then, picking that up could just wait too.

He grabbed a cloth and held it to the cut, moving to take a seat and sighing deeply. The best place for Merlin and his gift was Camelot. He belonged there, at Arthur's side. It seemed unfair for him to be pushed out after everything he had already done and everything that Gaius knew he would continue to do if only Uther wasn't so damn blind. If he wasn't in Camelot, where else would Merlin have to go?

"Gaius?" Gwen's voice drifted in through the doorway and he looked up to see the handmaiden pushing the door open to enter the room. She looked tired, as if she had barely slept, no doubt suffering the same worries for both Merlin and Arthur that he was.

"Guinevere." He smiled softly and stood, disposing of the now bloody cloth on the bench next to him. "How can I help, my dear?"

"I came to see if there's been any news?" She moved forward, playing with her hands. "I didn't dare ask anyone else."

"You needn't worry. They have yet to be found. With Prince Arthur there, Merlin is in good hands." He guided her to a seat before moving away to make her some tea to help calm her. "I'm sure that with Arthur's skills and Merlin's own… talents, they'll be safe."

"It is not my place to ask, Gaius, but what Sir Ivan said… was it the truth? Is Merlin a sorcerer?" She shifted in the seat then shook her head, pushing her hands down the folds of her dress as if to straighten them. "No… forget I asked. It really isn't my plac-"

"Guinevere, my dear, it is fine." He placed a hand on her shoulder and she stilled, looking up to him. With another deep sigh, he took the seat opposite her. "I'm sure he would have told you himself in his own time, had I not warned him to keep it a secret. You see, magic is a gift and Merlin is the type that likes to share his gifts. He wishes only to help…"

"Did he cure my father? Was that him?"

"He regretted the consequences of doing so but he hated to see you so sad."

She nodded, a small smile on her lips. "Merlin has a good heart. I know he would never harm anyone. Which is why I don't understand why Sir Ivan would do this to him?"

"He thinks of Camelot, I'm sure. He does not know Merlin like we do." Gaius had wondered the same thing himself, also questioning if Arthur had been witness to the same magic.

"But Merlin hasn't done anything wrong," she protested, her eyes following Gaius as he stood and moved back to the tea. "How can they hunt him like this, Gaius? It's not fair."

"I know, my dear. Perhaps in time, when Arthur is king, things will change." He closed his eyes briefly to pray that Merlin could wait that long. His words were met with silence and he looked to Gwen to see her attention focused on the ground.

It wasn't until he handed her the tea that she spoke again. "I don't trust Sir Ivan, Gaius. That hunt was several days ago so why wait until now to tell Uther what he saw?"

He took a sip of his own tea, considering her words and weighing them against his own suspicions of the knight. There had been plenty of time for Sir Ivan to inform the king and yet he had stayed silent at first. What had changed his mind? "I have been wondering the same thing myself."


	10. Chapter 10

Deep in thought, Arthur stalked back and forth across the small glade, his footsteps forming a steady rhythm. He had started the pattern of four steps forward, four steps back, shortly after Merlin had fallen into a sleep so deep that even his own soft snoring didn't wake him. It would have been a lie to say the pacing calmed him or made him any less anxious, if anything it put him more on edge but he found he couldn't keep still. He didn't want to keep still.

Something crunched off to his left and he drew his sword, spinning quickly to face the foe. A small rabbit glared back at him before scurrying on its way and he blew out a breath. Great, now he was getting spooked by 'killer' rabbits. What was it going to do? Nibble him to death? If Merlin had seen that, he wouldn't hear the end of it for days or more likely weeks knowing him.

That was it, no more pacing. He forced himself to rest against a tree opposite his manservant and watched as the young man slept peacefully, as if he was unaware of the dangers around him. It was probably the only time he got to be so peaceful but still, Arthur envied him for it and returned to thoughts of his father.

He had meant what he had told Merlin. With what he had done, his father wouldn't welcome him back to Camelot so easily. If he returned without Merlin or no explanation for his actions, Uther would never trust him again, especially when it came to magic. He would constantly be under watch, his father always waiting for him to help the next wayward sorcerer. And that was if Uther didn't lock him in the dungeons for the rest of his life or execute him himself for the act of treason.

There was always the possibility of lying. With how close he was to Merlin, there was a chance that his father would believe him if he said he wanted to do it himself and give Merlin some mercy away from a public execution. But the lie felt bitter in his mind so he doubted it would ever make it to his tongue. Besides, watching the sleeping form, he thought back to all the times Merlin had followed him out, standing by his side in the face of danger, never thinking of himself. Merlin had never deserted him before so he couldn't desert Merlin, not now. What would happen if he did? Would he end up like that Dragonlord? No, he couldn't let that happen to Merlin.

If only there was some way to prove Sir Ivan had lied. But how was he supposed to prove that when he knew damn well the knight had told the truth. He growled out in frustration and thrust his sword down, embedding it in the ground and leaving it there. Why did Ivan have to speak up after Arthur had warned him against it? Brushing his hands over his face, Arthur tried to push the anger away but one thought kept repeating. He wanted Sir Ivan's head and he was determined to get it.

Perhaps that would be the way to do it. If he got Merlin to safety somewhere far enough away from Camelot, then he could return and challenge the damn knight to a duel on the condition that his father believed in his word if he won. It wasn't ideal but it was the best plan he could come up with.

"You haven't slept, have you?" Merlin's groggy voice drifted through the glade and past his thoughts, forcing Arthur's attention away from revenge and toward the first and foremost problem that they had to deal with – getting Merlin out of harm's way.

He didn't answer the question. It would only worry Merlin and cause him to moan about nonsensical things that really didn't matter at that moment in time. Reaching forward, he pulled his sword from the ground, a tight grimace forming on his face as he regarded the dirt that now clung to it. Well, Merlin could clean it later. "Nice of you to join us in the land of the living. Now we can get moving before the knights have a chance to find us."

His manservant, the 'sorcerer', grumbled under his breath about indecisive slave drivers and how Arthur had practically ordered him to rest in the first place. It made the corner of his mouth twitch as he fought back the smile that wanted to break out. Still he kept thinking to himself, if he hadn't seen it for himself – several times now, though he was convinced that the barrels in the courtyard had been pure coincidence – he wasn't sure he would be able to believe that the man before him really was a sorcerer.

"No need to rush," he called out, rolling his eyes and returning the sword to its scabbard. "We'll just tell the knights to give us a head start while we pull ourselves together, shall we?"

"You try getting up when you've got a cramp in your leg." As if to prove his point, Merlin lumbered to his feet and stumbled forward a few steps, an exaggerated groan slipping from his lips.

"Believe me, Merlin, I've dealt with much worse than a pesky leg cramp." With a show of irritation, he turned a blind eye to the servant and let out a long breath before starting forward, knowing Merlin would follow in his own time.

"Of course, I forgot – you're invincible. Nothing can hinder the great Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot."

"When are you ever going to learn the proper etiquette of a servant? I swear, sometimes it's like you're completely ignorant to the status difference between us." He turned his head to the side and watched as the young man caught up, matching him stride for stride.

"Only sometimes?" Merlin questioned with a raised eyebrow and a twinkle in his eyes that told Arthur it wasn't ignorance that made him forget his place as a servant.

Arthur clipped him around the back of his head, a satisfied grin falling onto his face at the wince of faux pain Merlin displayed. "You're still my servant, Merlin. You'd do well to remember that."

One hand holding the strap of the satchel, Merlin used his other to rub at the spot Arthur had hit, though the prince doubted it had really hurt. After a long, drawn out silence, his footsteps slowed and Arthur fought the temptation to demand what was bothering the idiot now. But he didn't have to ask.

"You're going the wrong direction," Merlin said when Arthur turned to face him, dejection showing on his features but there was determination there too. "You're getting further and further away from Camelot."

"Merlin," he replied slowly, mock patience slipping into his tone as he spoke to the man as if he were a small child or someone who had taken one too many blows to the head. "That's the whole point."

"I can go on myself. You… you need to go back to Camelot. It's your destiny to be a great king. But if you don't go back now then how can that happen?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. If I went back now and left you, the guards would find you in a day. You wouldn't stand a chance." He shook his head and looked away, starting in his trudging forward again. If Merlin wanted to lag behind, then he could. But Arthur wasn't going to just leave him there, defenceless against the knights of Camelot.

"Sorcerer – remember?" Merlin called, as if it was the obvious answer that Arthur kept overlooking.

Arthur could only scoff. "And what does that prove?"

Still Merlin didn't move and Arthur was beginning to wonder if he would have to lead the idiot the whole way to safety. "I can look after myself. I'll manage… Camelot needs you, Arthur."

Coming to a stop, Arthur kept his back to his friend and hung his head. The words slipped from his mouth almost as silent as the air around the pair of them. "I'm not abandoning you, Merlin."

There was no reply. Well, that made a change – Merlin, speechless. Wonders never ceased. Maybe it would stop him from arguing about Arthur heading back. But then Merlin never did stay quiet for long.

"Arthur," he began, taking a step forward and Arthur frowned, listening to the sounds that lay beneath the ones Merlin was making with his noisy movement.

Holding up a hand to silence him, Arthur moved hurriedly to a patch of overgrown brush, keeping down low and hidden. Merlin joined him, silent and obedient when it mattered. The thrum of noise was louder now, the once distant horse hooves coming closer and closer until the rider passed them by, oblivious to their presence. Just one horse and just one rider.

Arthur let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and his eyes flashed dangerously in the direction the rider had disappeared down. That uniform, that face…

"That was Sir Ivan…" Merlin breathed out beside him, confirming what Arthur had been thinking. "But where are the others?"

"There are no others," Arthur hissed, pushing himself up. Without another word, he launched himself after the traitorous knight, his sword already pulled from its sheath.

"Then what's he doing out here by himself?" Merlin called out from behind and as Arthur looked over his shoulder to answer him, he saw Merlin had set off at a run after him.

"Why don't we find out?"

* * *

Blaine sat at the edge of the lake, staring out across it. Even as he heard the knight approach, he kept his sights focused on what was before him. His horse snorted disapprovingly at the arrival of the other, as if, like it's master, it knew itself to be superior in every meaning of the word. The sound of hooves turned to footsteps and he fell into the other man's shadow as the knight approached. Someone else approached too, their presence hidden by the thick woodland, but Blaine could feel them and he smiled.

"I did as you said." The knight's voice rang out and though it didn't waver, it still held uncertainty and Blaine's smile widened into a wolfish grin.

"Then it's too late to be having second thoughts now the deed is done, Knight." He pushed himself up and breathed in deep, closing his eyes as he focused on the presence drawing nearer. The prince and his warlock, they really had no clue what they would be walking in on. "How did the prince react to your betrayal?" he asked, revelling on the unease he could feel oozing from the knight.

The knight moved quickly but the rustling of his chainmail and clanking of his armour gave him away and Blaine spun to face him, amused as the spell slipped from his lips and the knight froze, hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword. "It was for the good of Camelot," the knight protested, refusing to show fear though Blaine could see the panic clearly in the depths of his eyes.

"Of course," Blaine answered. The wolfish grin turned wicked and he dug into his cloak to pull out of the pouch of gold coins. "But you'll be wanting your payment all the same, right?"

The knight didn't answer and Blaine played with a coin in his fingers, studying it and running his tips over the rough surface. "Though considering the boy escaped, perhaps you have not earned such a reward." He paused and looked into the knight's eyes. "Tell me, how does it feel to have your prince trust a sorcerer over his knights?"

"He is no prince of mine," the knight spat, features forming a hateful scowl.

Satisfied, Blaine released his hold on the knight. He looked the man over once more before throwing the pouch to him and turning back to the staring out across the lake. "Take your payment and your leave, Knight. You have served Camelot well."


	11. Chapter 11

Merlin really didn't like the sound of that. The way Arthur had said it, 'why don't we find out', and the predatory gleam in his eyes when he had looked back, told Merlin that talking wasn't what the prince had meant. Although, he supposed, for Arthur – the clashing of swords and spilling of blood was certainly one form of conversation. But it was one that Merlin didn't particularly approve of, nor one he wished to participate in.

He trailed closely behind the prince, making sure not to lose sight of him, even when the tree branches kept threatening to ensnare on his clothes to hold him up. He only caught up when Arthur had eased into a pace so slow that a slug could slither right passed them with more speed. The thought caused Merlin's eyes to drop to the forest floor, as if half expecting to see a slug do exactly that. There was no slug but there was a low, warning growl as his distraction caused him to walk right into Arthur who had now stopped in his creeping.

A sheepish smile flitted across his lips but his gaze was quickly drawn away the near fatal glare that Arthur threw him and toward the lake up ahead. From where they were, Merlin could make out two figures. Sir Ivan and a man he didn't recognise. The very sight of the man caused Merlin's blood to run cold as his breath caught in his chest. Magic, he would know it anywhere. Then as the man turned to face the knight, Merlin saw the unmistakable flash of gold in his eyes.

"Can't you do something?" Arthur asked, his eyes also focused on the pair.

Merlin raised an eyebrow, more than a little confused by the question. "Do something?"

A frustrated rumble slipped from Arthur's throat and though he couldn't see, Merlin was sure he rolled his eyes. "You know, so we can hear what they're saying?"

Now Merlin's eyebrow rose higher, a frown tugging at his lips. It was true that they were too far away to hear what was being said but what did Arthur think he could do about it? "You mean like move closer?" He spoke slowly, unsure of what Arthur expected of him.

"Merlin, you truly are an idiot," Arthur spat out, sparing him a quick glance that shared the same sentiment as his words. "Magic, _Mer_ lin. You are a sorcerer after all."

If they hadn't been trying to hide, Merlin knew Arthur would have shouted the last part and was actually quite proud that the prince managed to restrain himself from doing so. No doubt if he had shouted, it would have been Merlin's fault.

The frown slipped from Merlin's face and he refocused his attention on the knight and sorcerer up ahead. "Magic isn't a toy," he answered simply and maybe a little too quickly because Arthur seemed to pick up on the unspoken words.

"In other words, you don't know how to?" It was phrased as a question but Merlin knew it was anything but.

"No." Well, that wasn't entirely true. He had read something in the book Gaius had given him but he wasn't quite sure whether it would enhance hearing or just cause a person's ears to grow. Being that he already felt self-conscious about the size of his, he'd never tried it. So trying to use such a spell now, for all he knew he would end up turning Arthur into a frog. Any other time, if Arthur hadn't just saved his life by helping him to escape from Camelot, then he may not have been too bothered but he doubted Arthur would be equally amused.

But they didn't need any special hearing spells to make sense of what was going on between Sir Ivan and the man. It was as they said, whoever 'they' were, actions speak louder than words, and for once Merlin thought he knew what they meant. Sir Ivan caught a pouch in his hands and Merlin felt his heart sink. If the knight had told Uther about Merlin's magic because he truly believed it was the right thing to do, then Merlin could understand. But this, taking payment from another sorcerer… it left Merlin wondering.

Ivan moved toward his horse but Merlin kept his eyes on the sorcerer, creeping around to the other side of Arthur to get a better view. What was he planning and why had he paid the knight to rat Merlin out? The only thing Merlin knew for sure was that nothing good could come of a sorcerer, especially one that looked colder than any winter Merlin had suffered through, being so close to Camelot.

That thought caused another truth to stir inside of Merlin's mind and he sighed. Leaving the kingdom was no longer an option. It wasn't just his job to protect Arthur but also his job to protect Camelot against sorcerers and their magic, whether Arthur was there or not. He had realised that long ago. He was about tell Arthur as much, turning to the prince only to find him gone.

It didn't take him long to understand that the damn arrogant, insufferable and ever so slightly idiotic dollop-head had gone after Sir Ivan. Damn it…

Not caring about the noise he was creating, he gave chase and arrived just in time to see the prince throw himself from the raised spot he had found and at the passing knight. He dragged Sir Ivan from the horse and down with him to the ground with a loud crash and plenty of shouts. Both men appeared oblivious to the frightened horse that reared. Merlin, though, felt panic run through him as he could already see the decent of those hooves and the place they would land - that place being Arthur.

"Ásæle." The spell slipped from his lips, his hand outstretched, and he felt his magic flare. The horse's reins quickly became tangled in the branches of one of the trees, pulling the horse away from Arthur and allowing the hooves to come crashing down on soft forest floor instead.

Arthur was unfazed, or more likely he just had no idea how close a call it had been but then Merlin knew that wasn't any different from normal. Both prince and knight drew their swords and Merlin watched with mild fascination as the former circled the latter. It was like watching a cat toy with an injured bird, spreading its claws for nothing more than show, or like a wolf with a stray lamb, its jaw set into a knowing sneer.

With one hand, Arthur swung the sword lazily in a circle before pointing it to Sir Ivan's chest, his eyes never leaving the knight's face. "How much was your betrayal worth, Sir Ivan? How much did he pay for you to break your silence?"

The knight cocked his head to the side, his fingers flexing before tightening once more around the handle of his weapon. He scoffed at the question, a smirk slipping onto his lips. "How much were _you_ paid to keep _your_ s?"

"Merlin earned my silence and trust when he laid his life down for mine."

"Either you're a greater fool than I thought you were or you truly have been corrupted by the boy." A dry chuckle echoed around the eerily silent area and Merlin swallowed hard at the sound. It felt like it didn't belong there and by being there, it was breaking some unwritten law of the forest. "I think your actions prove it is the latter. I no longer serve _you_ so do not expect me to be merciful. After all, I am not the one who has betrayed Camelot – you are."

The words had barely finished vibrating through the air before Arthur lunged forward. Anger clouding the prince's judgement, Ivan deflected the blow easily and returned with a slash of his own. The tip of the blade ripped through the air inches from Arthur as the prince pulled back, leaving behind an angry whisper to trail after the metal.

Impatience, or maybe it was false confidence, caused the knight to strike again, stepping forward into the thrust he aimed at Arthur's side. Like it was a familiar dance routine that he knew all too well, Arthur swung to the side and round, avoiding the blade and bringing his elbow down on the back of Ivan's neck.

Losing his footing, the knight landed on the floor with a thump and Arthur immediately swooped down to grab the sword that had fallen with him. Unwilling to give up though, Sir Ivan rolled over onto his back, seconds away from making a desperate grab for his dagger or any other weapon he could reach, but the point of his own sword tracing the skin of his throat held him still and Arthur loomed above him.

"I said I would have your head." The words were callous and cruel, the blade far too steady in Arthur's grip. Blood trickled from the skin broken by the blade and fear darted across Sir Ivan's features. The sword was raised, ready for the kill, but Merlin saw the hesitation there and took advantage of it.

"Arthur!" he shouted, coming to stand before the prince, his posture rigid with determination.

For the first time since starting the fight, Arthur tore his gaze away from the knight and looked toward Merlin. The anger died away from his eyes and without a word, he released his grip on the sword, allowing it to fall to the ground with a clatter. He took a step away from Sir Ivan and sheathed his own blade, the growl still etched deep into his voice when he finally did speak.

"You're not worth it," he told the knight, looking down at him with hate and repulsion. "As the Crown Prince of Camelot, I banish you from this kingdom. Leave now and stay far away because the next time I see you, I won't be as tolerant."

Sir Ivan stood but didn't speak, glaring at Arthur as the prince turned his back on him. After several heartbeats, he finally moved toward his horse, grabbing his sword on the way. Merlin knew it wasn't respect that drove him but the fact that he knew he couldn't win. Either he did as Arthur said and left the kingdom, or he died.

"Should you ever whisper of what you witnessed or even think to speak Merlin's name in the same breath as the words magic or sorcerer," Arthur started up again, voice low as he turned his head enough so he could glower at the knight, "then I will hunt you down and finish what I started here."

The only reply was that of horse hooves and when they finally died away, Arthur looked to Merlin. The anger remained at the edges of his eyes but his expression had softened greatly and when he spoke, Merlin wasn't sure who he was trying to convince with his words. "You should have let me kill him."

"That's not the type of man you are," Merlin answered without thought because the words felt so true that no real thought was needed to speak them.

Arthur looked him over, his brow furrowing so much that Merlin wondered if he had grown a tail or a pair of wings. "You really are a mystery."

"So I've been told." A goofy grin lit up his face and he allowed himself to shake the tension from his shoulders. He could see the beginnings of a smile tracing the edges of Arthur's lips but before it could fully form, something else settled in the prince's eyes as his hand flew once again to his side where his sword sat.

Merlin felt the magic dripping from the air, surrounding them, well before he heard the spell. His eyes were locked on Arthur's but Arthur's were locked on something behind him, the blond's hand frozen in place, sword still comfortably in its sheath, in the same way Sir Ivan's had been by the lake.

"Your majesty," a voice echoed from behind, the words soaked in false humility and Merlin imagined the owner to be dipping into an excessively low bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you."


	12. Chapter 12

"Your majesty, it is a pleasure to meet you."

A dozen spells ran through Merlin's mind as he turned to face the sorcerer from the lake, feeling uneasy under the intense darkened gaze of the man. Everything about him made Merlin want to put as much distance between that piercing glare and himself and Arthur. Magic surged through his body, tingling and awaiting his command but Arthur broke the stillness before Merlin's chosen words had a chance to fully form.

"I cannot say the same is true of you," Arthur answered and Merlin couldn't help but marvel in his ability to sound like he was the one in control whilst he was at a clear disadvantage, being that the stupid arse couldn't even move. "Who are you and what is your business in Camelot?"

"My apologies, my Lord. Allow me to introduce myself." This time Merlin saw the sorcerer bow, dipping so low that the edges of his lengthy jacket traced the forest floor. His voice was sickly sweet with a low growling undertone that put Merlin in mind of dogs starved for too long. "I am Blaine, a seer from the North. As for why I come to Camelot, I should think you already know of my intentions."

Arthur chuckled dryly. "You wish to frame my manservant for sorcery?" The tone was amused and the words ignorant but they were strained all the same because amused and ignorant were two things Arthur were not at that moment in time. "That's a long way to travel all for the simple amusement of watching a lowly servant squirm in fear for his life."

In the back of his mind, Merlin felt a protest rising but he pushed it back down. He hadn't squirmed… much. A bark of harsh laughter tore through such thoughts though and he found himself looking the sorcerer over again. Why _had_ he wanted to reveal Merlin's sorcery?

"I come to ensure the future of Albion does not fall into the hands of a foolish king-to-be, to see you meet your end before such nonsense can go ahead."

The words had little effect on Arthur. He didn't blanch, he didn't even twitch. The only hitch in breath that followed the words was Merlin's own. It could have been a result of the spell that held Arthur in place, he thought absently, but more likely, the prince had grown so used to death threats that at some point, he stopped being surprised by them. Merlin, however, had still not reached that point.

"Arthur will unite the lands. He'll bring peace and lessen suffering and maybe… maybe even magic can return again." Merlin furrowed his brow and blinked at Blaine, confused. "Why would that be a bad thing?"

"There is no money in peace. There is no entertainment." Blaine scoffed, regarding Merlin in the same way many visiting nobles had before – like he was something less, something not to their standards. "Perhaps if you had used your talents differently, you would see how handsomely a king rewards certain 'gifts' in times of conflict and war. No war, no rewards."

"And so you plan to kill me so you can continue to reap your rewards?" Arthur asked, a note of disbelief in his voice that Merlin suspected had more to do with the claim he would unite the lands than the idea of a sorcerer plotting to kill him. "Then why bring Merlin into this? He has done nothing to you and your quarry is apparently with me and something I have yet to do."

"Only an unwise fool would risk an attempt on your life whilst you have the protection of a sorcerer." Blaine took a step forward and Merlin found himself taking a step back. Understanding dawned on him as cold and unrelenting eyes looked his way and Blaine raised a hand. He had frozen Arthur in place so the prince wouldn't intervene. "You have a great power and a great potential… it's a shame you let your heart get in the way, boy."

The air seemed to ripple before slamming into Merlin and sending him backwards where he landed hard on the ground. He was sure there should be pain and if his head hadn't been spinning from the impact it might have caught onto the messages that his body was sending its way. As it was, his mind was still trying to catch up with what had happened.

"Merlin!" Arthur's voice brought clarity to his thoughts and he lifted his head to look to the prince, blinking until the double images faded. "Don't just lie there – get up!"

He nodded absently, his head swivelling to look to the approaching sorcerer as he pushed back, attempting to keep the distance between them. "Þu áríseest, gehrínan," he commanded, his arm outstretched. Immediately, the spell took hold and he watched as roots broke free of the earth, weaving their way up Blaine's legs to grip him tightly, bringing him to a standstill.

Seizing his opportunity, Merlin scrambled to his feet, staggering at first but quickly regaining his balance. He spared Arthur a fleeting glance but returned his attention to Blaine, hands forming fists at his side. "We don't have to do this," he tried but his words fell on deaf ears and Blaine continued on, kicking free of the roots that died and turned to ash at his touch.

"Ábríeteþ hine!" he called out and Merlin reacted instinctively, drawing up both hands as a shield.

"Gescildan!" The counter lessened the blow but he could still feel the magic vibrating in the air around him, forcing him back a step but no more. His chest felt heavy, his breathing hard against the strain of holding back Blaine's magic, but he knew he couldn't rest and focused instead on his next attack. "Forbærnen firgenholt."

Above Blaine, one of the larger branches snapped and fell fast.

"Ásnæsaþ."

The spell was a whisper. It was the only warning Merlin got before the branch abruptly changed direction, heading straight for him. If he had blinked, he would have missed the movement altogether. Heart hammering and body feeling more than just a little abused, he dove to the right, the branch skimming his shoulder and leaving stinging pain in its wake.

"Néadhæs byre," he growled through clenched teeth, biting back against the ache and throbbing of his shoulder as he raised his hand.

Blaine stumbled but didn't fall. Anger lit up his eyes, his features twisting into a grimace. It was the first sign he had given of not having the upper hand, as if he had thought Merlin would go out quietly. It gave Merlin a small sense of victory which was only made greater by the small twitches of movement coming from Arthur – the sorcerer so consumed by his fight with Merlin that his hold on the prince was slowly slipping.

"Is this really what you want?" Merlin asked, scrambling backwards once again as Blaine stalked toward him. He was buying time now, hoping to keep Blaine distracted enough for Arthur to be fully freed from the spell. "War and conflict? Did you never just want a pony when you were a child?"

"Berne!" was the only reply he got and his body protested as he raised a shield once again, fighting back against the flames that threatened to engulf him.

"So maybe not a pony then…" he panted, his back scratching against the bark of a tree that brought him to a halt.

Blaine loomed closer and Merlin used the tree as leverage to push himself to his feet. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but wonder if he had enough strength left in him to fend off another strong attack. Though, hearing the familiar sound of a sword being drawn, a lazy grin spread across his face as he thought that maybe he wouldn't need to.

"Cume her," the sorcerer started, his words dying on a cold snarl as it seemed that he too had heard the sword. His attention snapped away from Merlin and toward Arthur, his hand raised and mouth already twisting into another spell but Merlin was faster.

Fire spread out across the forest floor, wrapping itself around Blaine and holding him locked within the circle it created. Golden eyes met golden eyes and Merlin refused to blink, forcing the flames higher whilst Blaine attempted to beat them back down.

The sorcerer's attention now back on him, Merlin carefully watched Arthur behind him, waiting for the right opening… just waiting… ready to drop the flames.

"Áswáme," he whispered after several long heartbeats, the word strong beneath his breath. In an instant, the fire obeyed and died away and Blaine sneered at him, a sharp snigger echoing in his words – he didn't see Arthur moving in behind him.

"Stupid weak minded bo-" Blaine began but his words were cut short.

Arthur had slipped over the burnt ground and into the circle. In one swift move, he grabbed Blaine by the shoulder to hold him still whilst thrusting his sword into the man's back. When he pulled the blade free, Blaine fell to his knees, face confused as he slumped listlessly to the ground.

"Well that was fun," Merlin breathed out, sliding down the tree to sit at its base, exhausted and weary. He closed his eyes and listened to the silence that followed, waiting for Arthur to say something to break it. When he didn't, Merlin sighed and looked to the fallen sorcerer. "Is he dead?"

Arthur nudged the man with his left boot before lowering to consider him more carefully. "He's still breathing but I doubt he will be for long." Poised on his haunches, he looked Blaine over thoughtfully and nodded, as if coming to some decision. "We need to get him back to Camelot."

Until that moment, Merlin hadn't been sure he had enough left in him to be surprised by anything anymore and yet as Arthur said those words, his body reacted accordingly. His breath caught in his throat and he was forced to fight the cough that lingered whilst his eyes widened and lips moved soundlessly. When he found his voice it sounded small and croaky. "You want to take a dangerous sorcerer back to Camelot?"

"He's dying, Merlin. I hardly think he's going to be much of threat in this state." Arthur cocked an eyebrow at him then rose to his feet and pursed his lips as his eyes wandered over the immediate area of woodland. "My father wishes to execute a sorcerer," he explained, "so better he execute one who wishes Camelot harm than… well…"

"Me?" Merlin offered up and Arthur's gaze met his once more, solemn and bright. He didn't need to answer, it was written all too clearly in those blue eyes.

And then it was gone and Arthur's lips quirked up, revealing his teeth in a smarmy smile. "If you're done just lying there – you can help me figure out how we're going to get this lump back to Camelot."

Merlin huffed out and shot a glare at the Prat but dragged himself to his feet all the same. "There was a horse with him by the lake," he suggested.

"That would work." Arthur nodded but stayed where he was, staring at the dying sorcerer while Merlin stared slack jawed at him. "Go on then," he went on after several long beats, sparing Merlin a glance before making himself comfortable on the ground, his sword out in front of him. "I'll wait here while you go fetch it."

"Why me?" Merlin squeaked in protest and the look he received said it all. Because _he_ was the manservant. "Nope. No way. I'm not leaving you alone with him."

"What part of 'dying' and 'no threat' do you not understand?"

Merlin scoffed and narrowed his eyes, regarding the fallen man before looking to Arthur once more. "The part where he's a sorcerer so for all we know, he could just be pretending to be dying."

"Merlin," Arthur retorted sharply, that deadly smile gracing his lips once more as he raised his sword to point at Merlin's chest. "If I ran you through with my blade, would _you_ survive it?"

He opened his mouth to say the question was ridiculous and that of course he wouldn't survive it but all that came out was a short "Oh…" and really, he could see Arthur's logic there. He wasn't happy about it, but he could see it and so he snorted and turned away, stomping through the underbrush on his way back to the lake. "If he wakes up and kills you, don't say I didn't warn you!" he called over his shoulder and he swore he heard Arthur laugh in reply.


	13. Chapter 13

Arthur studied the sorcerer as he sat there, watching for any unexpected or sudden changes in movement. There was none. Still, he didn't let his guard down. Merlin was right, there was no telling what this _Blaine_ was capable of. Merlin may not have been able to survive being run through with a sword but that didn't mean this sorcerer didn't have some trick up his sleeve so that he would.

But Merlin had looked drained. There was no chance Arthur would leave him alone with the man for the same reasons Merlin didn't want to leave Arthur alone with him.

"See," he said as he heard Merlin return with the horse. "He's still unconscious and I'm still alive."

"Congratulations," Merlin muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Arthur to hear. "I'm sure they'll hold a festival in your honour."

Arthur rolled his eyes and pushed himself up, regarding Merlin and the horse - who didn't look at all happy about being led there, and really, it was a horse so it had no right to look that way. He slid his sword away before brushing away the dead leaves that clung to him.

"Cheer up," he said, reaching out to pat Merlin on the head like a faithful hound and earning a glare for the effort. "If this goes how I hope it will, you will be back with Gaius before the night is done."

"And if it doesn't?" Merlin questioned, his scepticism clear and Arthur shook his head, stopping that line of thought right there. It _would_ work. There was no other choice.

"It will," he answered and moved to saddle bag, rummaging inside. After a few beats of extended silence, he pulled out a small and worn book and tapped on the front cover thoughtfully before flicking through the pages. Perfect. "And this is why."

"Magic…" The manservant sounded fascinated, his attention held on the book like it held answers to unknown questions and he supposed that for Merlin, it probably did. Then his brow creased and he pulled that rapt gaze away from the book and looked at Arthur instead. "But surely, as the Prince of Camelot, your word would be enough…"

"It didn't do much good when Ivan first accused you." Arthur sighed and thrust the book back into the bag. "Come on," he continued, moving to the sorcerer, "help me with him so we can get going."

With a lot more effort than it really needed – because apparently being a sorcerer that could control fire and wind and who only knew what else, meant that your muscles became weak and useless from lack of use – they managed to heave Blaine up onto the back of the horse. It was reluctant to move at first, completely ignoring Arthur's commands and orders but then Merlin clucked his tongue encouragingly and stroked a hand down its mane and apparently that was all it took for the stupid animal to move.

"What will you tell your father?" Merlin asked after several steps and Arthur considered the question carefully before answering.

"The truth," he said, already imagining the conversation in his head. He ignored the half croak, half squeak noise that came from Merlin's direction and carried on with a shrug. "I'll tell him Sir Ivan sold his honour to the highest bidder and was paid to create a distraction so that this waste of space," he hitched a thumb towards Blaine, "could slip into Camelot unseen to off me whilst everyone else was too busy scrambling around trying to catch you. But of course, being the Prince of Camelot, I figured it all out."

Merlin looked at him through disbelieving eyes, his lips quirking up into an incredulous smile as he shook his head. "Sounds like a long shot to me."

"I swear, you have no faith in me, Merlin." He tried to sound offended but didn't quite pull it off and they fell back into companionable silence, only the forest life and horse's hooves breaking through it. It wasn't until the walls of Camelot were in sight that Arthur spoke up again, casting a sidelong glance to Merlin.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, the question having been circling his mind continuously after bearing witness to just how much power Merlin seemed to wield.

Merlin looked to him and reached a hand up to his shoulder, the cloth of his jacket torn after its encounter with the branch. Ever the ignorant idiot, he didn't follow Arthur's line of thought. "Nothing serious…"

"I meant the magic." Turning his attention back to the path laid out to them by the forest, Arthur lowered his eyes. "Does it hurt to use it?"

Merlin shook his head. "It's like breathing."

He considered that for a moment, the gentle clip-clop from the horse's hooves echoing in the silence his thoughts left. Then he spoke again, slow and contemplative. "What he said back there… about you protecting me, do I even want to know?"

"No." Merlin beamed at him, his grin impish and eyes alight. "It'd only bruise your ego."

Arthur could only nod in reply. Everything he had been through with Merlin, all the dangers he had faced, looking back at them now, he was seeing them in a whole new light. The little unexplained things that happened or the memory lapses that occurred when he woke to find a beast slain, Merlin was always there.

"Arthur…"

The sound of his name pulled him from his thoughts and he looked to Merlin briefly before focusing on what was ahead of them. Camelot.

Of the guards that stood at the entrance, only two approached and Arthur took a deep breath, readying himself. They looked as unsure as he felt, uncertainty washing over their faces and creeping into their movements.

"Send news to my father," he announced, coming to a stop a mere foot away from the largest of the guards. "I have taken the sorcerer captive."

There was no argument, just a flurry of movement as one of the guards turned to dash away. The others looked to Merlin, already making their way towards him but Arthur growled in frustration. "Not him, you idiots," he snapped before pointing to the horse and lump that lay across the saddle. "Him!"

* * *

Merlin kept his eyes down as they stood in the court, avoiding all of the looks that were thrown his way. The worst had come from Uther – a glare that was murderous to say the least. If Arthur hadn't been stood between them, Merlin had no doubt that the king would have crossed the room to follow through on the threat that lay in the depth of that glare. It had him rethinking this whole plan of Arthur's and wondering if it wasn't too late to sneak back out into the forest.

"I found your sorcerer." Arthur stepped forward, posture rigid and voice confident. "As I said, Merlin is innocent and should be cleared of all charges. After saving my life, yet again, it is the least that can be done."

"And you have proof?" the king questioned, shifting up ahead. Merlin dared to quickly look his way but dropped his gaze almost immediately to the prone body of Blaine that lay across the floor – whether dying or alive, the sorcerer didn't have anything on Uther who could radiate terror as easily as a bird could sing.

Everyone in the court seemed to hold their breath and maybe that was why it sounded so loud when Blaine's spell-book landed on the floor in front of Uther, the thump seeming to vibrate and echo in the air. "This was found amongst his belongings."

Footsteps and then, "It is a book of magic, My Lord. There is no doubt." Gaius' soft and wizened tones calmed Merlin and he felt himself relax just a little but still he could not look up.

Uther said nothing for a long while, as if attempting to decide whether the evidence was enough. Apparently it wasn't. "And Sir Ivan conspired with this man?"

"Yes, Sire," Arthur answered.

"Is there anyone else besides you and the boy that can confirm this? Any witnesses to this bribery of which you speak?"

Arthur said nothing. There was nothing to say. Witnesses? He hadn't asked for witnesses when he had been condemning Merlin for sorcery…

"My Lord, if I may…" Merlin looked up, his eyes searching for the owner of the voice and finding Sir Leon, head bowed in respect. "I do believe I recognise this man," the knight continued when no one interrupted. "I saw him speaking with Sir Ivan the evening before he accused young Merlin of sorcery. I thought nothing of it at the time but I do recall Sir Ivan being a slight… _testy_ when questioned about it."

For a long moment, Merlin believed that Uther would dismiss the statement and order Merlin to be restrained and taken to the cells once again. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and watched the king carefully. When the king met his gaze, it was with disdain but there was less murder there which had to be a good thing, right?

"Very well," Uther conceded, looking to Arthur instead. "The charges have been cleared. Your manservant is a lucky man."

"Thank you, Father." Arthur bowed his head and Merlin found himself imitating the movement.

With a reluctant nod of his head, Uther turned away, his eyes moving to the guards near the doors as his hand motioned toward Blaine. "Take this man to the dungeons where he can live out what little is left of his life and when he passes, I wish to know immediately."

* * *

Everyone drifted slowly from the court, Merlin and Gaius included, leaving Arthur alone with his father. He felt drained, his stomach wound into a tight knot and his mind foggy from overuse and lack of sleep. But this could not wait. His father _would_ not wait.

"I am sorry, Father," he started, his head inclined and eyes focused on the cold stone floor. "I disobeyed you and placed myself and Camelot in danger. I can only hope that, in time, you will forgive me for my actions and perhaps come to understand why I did what I did."

"And what is it that I am to understand?" Uther questioned, sounding just as weary.

"That I could not allow a good man to die." He met his father's gaze, trying to read what he saw there. Suspicion, disappointment, confusion… "From a young age," he went on, "you taught me to trust my instincts. You told me that whilst my eyes may be fooled easily by sorcery and magic and whilst my ears may be open to lies and mistruths, it would be my instincts that allowed me to see past the beautiful face or softly spoken word that would wish to deceive me. My instincts told me that Merlin was innocent."

"And what if your instincts had been wrong?"

He stood tall, refusing to back down. "If I am to be king one day, I cannot allow for them to be."

Uther sighed. "If you are to be king, my son, you cannot allow for your emotions to rule your actions."

"I understand, Fathe-"

"No," Uther interrupted, pushing himself up from his seat. "I am not sure you do."

Arthur's brow furrowed and he shook his head in protest. "Father…"

"One day I will die and you will be king. When that time comes, there will be many difficult decisions to be made. There will be sacrifices that must be taken in order to survive. Your compassion for the people blinds you." He turned away and looked toward one of the many great windows. "One day, you will learn that."

* * *

Moving swiftly along the castle halls, Merlin walked with Gaius, the old physician guiding him as he went over all that happened. He told Gaius of Sir Ivan and Arthur banishing him and of Blaine and his wish to never see Albion united. "He knew about Arthur's destiny and he knew who I was," he said.

"Very few are gifted with the power to attain such knowledge but doubtless there will be others like him. We will have to be cautious." Gaius nodded thoughtfully, answering the question that had lingered at the tip of Merlin's tongue before falling silent as a servant girl approached and passed them by. When she was out of ear shot, he spoke again. "Arthur appears to be coping quite well with knowing your secret…"

"He hasn't threatened to kill me yet," Merlin jested but his smile became strained. Arthur had defied Uther for him, lying to the king in order to protect him and Merlin could only imagine how difficult that must have been for the prince. "I just wish he hadn't been put in that position."

"Merlin!" the familiar voice of Gwen echoed up from behind and Merlin turned to see the handmaiden approaching. Her infectious smile had him grinning once more.

"I'm glad you're home," she said when she caught up with them, wrapping her arms around him briefly before pulling away again, a light blush spreading across her cheeks. "Thank you..."

"What for?"

"My father," she answered. "Gaius told me what you did for him."

He frowned and looked to the old physician before looking back to Gwen, already opening his mouth to ask what he had done but she didn't give him the chance to speak. "I have to go, I'm running late. I'm supposed to be helping with the laundry – I just… I wanted to see you and make sure you were okay and say that I'm glad you're home, not that you wouldn't already know that, I just wanted to say it-"

"Gwen," he said, cutting her off and she clamped her mouth shut. "Thank you."

She smiled once more then turned on her heel and dashed off the way she had come, leaving Merlin still unsure of what he had done. "What did she mean?" he asked Gaius, following him up the steps toward his chambers. "About her father…"

"I think," Gaius explained, "she means thank you for giving her those few more precious months with her father by healing him."

"She knows about… but… who else knows?"

"As long as you try to be a bit more careful, hopefully no one else will or next time, your head might actually make it to the chopping block." Gaius looked to him with a raised eyebrow and then motioned toward the seat next to the table. "Now sit down and take your shirt off. I want to make sure your little adventure hasn't hindered your healing."

Merlin complied, pulling away his jacket and letting it land on an empty patch of table before doing the same with his shirt. He fell into deep thought as Gaius examined his shoulder briefly then moved onto his chest, carefully stripping away the bandages that were dotted with small spots of red here and there. It didn't hurt that much, barely even a dull ache anymore, and after everything that had happened, it made the injuries seem inconsequential.

When he was back in Ealdor and Will had discovered his magic but promised to keep it a secret, Merlin remembered feeling a sense of freedom and security. He hadn't realised how much that feeling meant to him until Will had died and Merlin had been left with one less person to confide in about his magic. The sense of loss was even greater after Freya. But now... He smiled to himself as he thought about the home he had found in Camelot and the friends he had made. He finally felt like he belonged somewhere.

"Uther will be watching you," Gaius said, breaking into Merlin's happy thoughts. "You must be extra careful now."

"Aren't I always?" he asked but Gaius' eyebrow just rose higher in response and Merlin took that to mean 'No, not particularly'. He sagged a little and looked to his freshly bandaged chest.

"It is not just magic he'll be looking for," Gaius continued and Merlin frowned, watching the old physician through confused and narrowed eyes. "He will be watching to see what influence you hold over Arthur."

Merlin laughed. "I don't hold any influence over that dollop-head. If I did, do you really think I'd be washing his dirty socks?"

But Gaius looked sombre and Merlin's laughter faded. "Arthur put his position as Crown Prince on the line to keep you, a mere servant, from being executed. It is not something Uther will take to lightly. Promise me you will be careful, Merlin."

"Of course," Merlin answered with a nod of his head. He would be as careful as he could be.

* * *

"Ah, Merlin – there you are."

Arms laden with Arthur's breakfast, Merlin turned on the spot to face said prince as he tried to figure out whether he was running late or Arthur was running early. "Sire?" he greeted, a little uncertainly, waiting for Arthur to inform him that it was indeed the former and that his tardiness was becoming a problem.

It had been a week since they had returned to Camelot with the dying sorcerer – Blaine hadn't even lasted the first night, taking his final breath before the sun had attempted to rise on a new day. Other than a few odd looks, things had started to return to normal or in other words, Merlin had gone straight back to being Arthur's manservant and barely had a chance to notice what else was going on within the walls of Camelot what with all of the jobs he had been given. And Arthur, he acted as if none of it had happened.

It made Merlin wonder if he had imagined it all – he had asked Gaius after the second night if he had but the old physician assured him that it all had, indeed, happened.

Arthur looked at the plate of food in Merlin's hand with a furrowed brow as if he was trying to contemplate what it was and why Merlin was holding it. He didn't question Merlin on it though, which was just as well because the kitchen staff were in earshot and they were known to hold a grudge. "I need you to fetch my armour from the armoury and bring it to the training fields. We're doing mace work so you can use the time to sharpen and polish my sword. And when you're through with that, my horses need mucking out and my rooms need tidying – I saw rat droppings again – and I'll need you to bring me an early lunch then prepare my hunting gear."

"You expect me to do all that, this morning?" Merlin questioned, the very thought of it all making him feel as if he had already done a hard day's work.

"Why? Is there somewhere else you have to be?"

Merlin gritted his teeth. "Of course not, Sire."

"Good, then I'll see you down on the training fields in ten minutes." Arthur grinned, or rather he flashed his teeth like a dangerous predator.

"Ten minutes?" he whined in reply, his shoulders sagging. "Just how do you expect me to do that?"

"Magic, Merlin. Magic." Grin still on his face, Arthur turned to leave and Merlin grumbled under his breath, wondering if the prince truly did expect him to use magic or if he was just enjoying the torturous effect that his unreasonable demands had on Merlin. "Oh, and Merlin…" he added, turning once again to face him.

"Yes, Arthur?" Merlin smiled tightly at him, already considering what he _would_ use magic on – after all, maybe Arthur would be less trouble as a toad or small field mouse.

The prince's eyes softened, his voice dropping to a level that made him almost sound concerned. "Don't get caught…"

Merlin's smile turned genuine and he nodded. "Yes, Sire."

* * *

Arthur left Merlin to the impossibly long list of chores and turned his attention toward the training field. He didn't miss the clatter of plates or Merlin's curse as one of them shattered against the stone floor, finding himself shaking his head and smiling almost fondly as he thought of the manservant and all that had happened.

Blaine had been a sorcerer, as had all the others before him. But Merlin, well, Arthur stuck to the conclusion he had drawn before - Merlin was just an idiot who happened to have magic. He was Arthur's loyal servant and friend and despite all that his father said, Arthur found himself thinking more and more about what Merlin had said in the forest. Maybe Arthur wouldn't be the type of king that his father wanted him to be but would it be so horrible to be the type of king that Merlin believed he would become?

Though really, uniting the lands? That was a bit of a stretch, even for Merlin.


End file.
